A Rock And A Hard Place
by Allegra
Summary: Part 12 up When Lex is exposed to something in the woods, it threatens to corrupt his relations with those around him, even Clark. But, as things heat up between Clark & Lana, will he even notice? Will Chloe be the one to save Lex?
1. Trustworthy

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters & appreciate that they are the property of Miller/Gough & various TV studios.

Author's Note: This is a little birthday gift to Polly. I'm sorry I'm not here to ring you on your special day so here's the start of something I hope you'll appreciate. As usual, it gets going a little slowly but you know me, it'll end up a whopper!!

CHAPTER ONE : TRUSTWORTHY

"Clark? What are you doing here?" Lex tried to hide his surprise. He would expect to see the dark-haired teenager at the mansion any time of day or night but popping up at the local plant was hardly the place for a farm kid. His mind wandered back to the day Earl had held Clark Kent's school party hostage inside and Lex smiled. Clark never did seem to be flustered by a life and death situation. Where most of his friends saw the plant as a place full of memories and experiences they'd rather forget, this kid seemed to seek it out instead.

"I stopped by the mansion. They told me you were here." Clark strode across the car park, hauling his heavy book bag onto his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a feather.

"What's the urgency?" Lex inquired, sticking his hands in the pockets of his black greatcoat.

Clark pulled his mouth into the lopsided grin that Lex had come to interpret as his friend's way of plucking up the courage to say something important. "It's not urgent, it's just..." He paused, weighing up the ways to say what was supposed to be an invitation but sounded more like digging a grave.

Lex could sense his friend withholding and tried to help him out. "It's just what, Clark? After the meeting I've just had, it'd have to be pretty dire to top it, believe me."

Clark blurted out, "My parents have invited you to dinner."

Lex drew himself to his full height, taking in the news. There wasn't much that could surprise him after so many years in Metropolis, but this was an offer he certainly had missed coming. His eyes surveyed Clark's open face. "You mean Martha Kent has invited me to dinner."

Clark shrugged, dismissively. "Dad's going to be there."

Lex nodded as if weighing up the possible directions such a meeting could go. His eyes bore into Clark's and the teenager shifted uncomfortably beneath his friend's piercing gaze. It was like Lex was always seeking the lies and deceit hidden beneath the kindness. No matter how good friends they became, Lex always kept Clark at arm's length. He never shared a problem even though the millionaire knew everything about his...well, except maybe one. The pair were almost a fascination to each other, the different walks of life two people could walk and still find some common ground.

Finally, Lex spoke. "Tell Martha I'd be honoured to take up her offer." He turned back to his black porsche. Starting the engine, he swung the vehicle round to where Clark was standing where he wound down the passenger window. "Get in, Clark. I'll drop you off at the farm."

Chloe glanced at the wall clock as she edited the last article for the Torch. She hadn't realised how late it had got but her sore eyes told the same tale - it was time to put the paper to bed. The cleaners had finished their night's work and she had already made the call to home to say she wouldn't be back for dinner.

The blonde newspaper editor switched her monitor off and grabbed her coat. "Chloe!" She jumped out of her skin at the voice and turned to see Pete standing in the door.

"Jesus, Pete! You scared me!"

"Yeah, well if you hadn't stood me up then I wouldn't have had to come down here, would I?" The irritation in his voice told Chloe she had gone too far this time. Pete was normally the picture of a good mood but even he had a limit to his benevolent nature. Still, Chloe couldn't blame him. She hadn't exactly been available to her friends lately. It was this damned portfolio she had been asked to get together for the summer programme at the Metropolis Globe. It had eaten into her time at the Torch and then she had to spend every other spare minute catching up on her editing duties.

"Oh, Pete, I'm sorry. I was just editing this one feature and then..."

Pete waved his hands at her, "On, wait, wait, I remember this one. You lost track of time, right?"

Chloe nodded, helplessly. "I'm really sorry. Listen, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"I don't want you to make it up to me. I want you to be at the Beanery when you say you're going to be there, or at least call me. You know, I've got stuff to do, too, Chloe. You can't keep treating people like this." Chloe just let her friend get it all out. She deserved it after all. He had borne the brunt of her neglect for the past weeks and she had acted abysmally.

When he had fully vented his annoyance, she ventured another apology. She put on her best forlorn puppy expression and sidled up to him. "Will you give me one more chance? If I muck up again, you have my complete permission to string me up for it. Pretty please?"

Pete turned a steely gaze on his friend's doe-eyed desperation. He had planned to come here and give her his lecture then storm out but, as usual, Chloe knew just how to get around him. Sighing loudly, he relinquished his anger. "Fine." He waggled a warning finger in her face, "But if you do this again, I promise you I'm going to come down here and delete every file I can get my hands on."

Chloe feigned horror, "My God, Pete! I didn't think you had it in you to be that cruel. Tomorrow? We could go to the movie theatre together. There's tons of good stuff playing."

"Sure. I'll meet you there after lunch." Pete headed for the door. "Oh, and call Clark. He needs digging up out of the Lana bog."

"Absolutely not! I can't believe you didn't even consult me about this!"

Martha Kent braced herself against on the onslaught of abuse directed at what she had been hoping would be a dinner guest. "Jonathan, please. Calm down. It's just a meal!"

Jonathan took a deep breath and rested his arms on the back of a dining chair. His hands tightened around the wood, knuckles whitening. Trying to control the tremor in his voice, he spoke quietly and deliberately. "Ever since he came to Smallville, Lex Luthor has trying to inveigle his way into our lives. First, his friendship with Clark then offers to pull us out of debt...all out of the kindness of his heart? I don't think so."

Martha moved her hand soothingly up and down her husband's back. "Honey, why is that so implausible?"

Jonathan looked at her sternly. "Because the Luthors don't have hearts." Martha widened her eyes in motherly admonition but he continued. "You tell me I shouldn't judge Lex by his father's actions but don't forget that Lionel Luther raised him. You can say what you like about the person Lex seems to have become but his whole take on life was the teachings of a tycoon who would rather take over another town than go fishing with his son. Lex's principles are so far removed from ours that I doubt he even knows how deep the coldness runs in his veins."

Jonathan loosened a little and sank into the chair opposite his wife. "If you invite him to dinner here, he'll play the part of a gracious guest but inside he'll be looking for his next opportunity. He'll use any information you give him about our family to turn a profit. Don't doubt it."

Martha had expected all this bitterness and it wasn't going to alter her decision. "Then we'll be careful of what we say. Please, Jonathan. I'm trying to make a bit of peace...for Clark's sake. He and Lex are friends. Don't let your feelings for the Luthors affect the relationship you have with your only son."

"I can't stop you, Martha. Just don't doubt how much Lionel there is in Lex."

THERE YOU GO. JUST A LITTLE TASTER SO FAR. I'VE GOT TO BE IN LONDON IN AN HOUR SO I'VE GOT TO STOP! MORE COMING SOON. ANY COMMENTS OR SUGGESTIONS OF WHERE YOU'D LIKE TO SEE IT GO NEXT?


	2. Cold Dinners

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra 

CHAPTER 2 : COLD DINNERS

Lana Lang settled herself into a big leather armchair in the corner of the Beanery. She was shattered and this was just her fifteen minute break. The coffee house had been teaming with people all afternoon and every minute of serving coffees and collecting empty mugs felt more like an hour. She stared numbly at the bustling scene around her and had barely registered the angry looking customer heading in her direction when a muscly frame blocked her view. Looking up, Lana was relieved to be faced with her friend and would-be boyfriend, Clark Kent.  
"Clark, hey."

"Hi Lana. Are you still working?" Clark's gaze rode anxiously around the hordes of people.

Lana pulled herself up into more of a sitting position in the chair. She could see that he was upset by something and, despite her fatigue, Lana was always ready to lend an ear. "What is it, Clark?"

Clark's big blue eyes turned back to her, wide with surprise. "Nothing. I'm fine." The moment the words left his mouth he knew he'd rather be telling Lana all about his troubles. "I wouldn't want to bother you on your break. I can see it's pretty busy here."

Lana patted the chair next to her. "Clark, I've always got time for you. You know that. Tell me what's bothering you."

The brawny teenager sat down and leaned back heavily. "I guess I just didn't want to go home. I could hear Mom and Dad arguing from the end of the yard."

A frown passed across Lana's flawless face. "About what?"

"Lex...Lex and me, our friendship." Lana mouthed a silent 'oh' but left Clark the space he needed to talk. "Dad still doesn't trust him and Mom invited Lex to dinner tomorrow night." Clark rolled his eyes, "It's going to be...horrible."

Lana smiled, reassuringly. "Oh, Clark, maybe it won't be that bad."

Clark chuckled, humourlessly. "Want to bet? I can see it already. Lex will be trying to make light conversation while constantly putting his foot in it by talking about local business. Dad's hackles will be up from the moment Lex steps in the door and Mom will spend the whole evening trying to keep things civil. Lana, it's going to be a nightmare. And the worst part is that I know Mom's doing it for me but right now I'm not sure I even want to be there myself."

Lana laughed lightly. Clark tried not to dwell too long on the way the light was reflected in her eyes or the curve of her full lips over perfect white teeth. Everything about Lana Lang was almost too perfect to be true - unsullied and pure as the whitest lilies. Catching his penetrating gaze, the brunette cleared her throat uncertainly. "Well, I don't know what to say. It sounds like you've already made your decision about how this is going to go."

Blushing at being caught staring, Clark asked, "What else am I supposed to think? It's the way things go every time the two meet."

Lana glanced at the clock. "Listen, Clark, I've got to get back to work." She stood to go then turned back, thoughtfully. "You know, Clark, your dad and Lex are both good people. Help them find some common ground and maybe things won't go so badly tomorrow."

Clark smiled sadly in acknowledgement. He appreciated Lana trying to help but, as he had feared, nobody could suggest anything that would make this experience any easier.

The next day bowled around and Clark tried to occupy his time with any other thought than that evening's torture. He was grateful that Chloe and Pete had invited him along to the movies but his mind wasn't on the afternoon's activities. It hadn't made the day any more fun to arrive just when Pete was arguing with Chloe once more about her tardiness. In fact, what was supposed to be fun had just turned into a damp squib. Eventually, he had been forced to go home when Smallville town centre had run out of options.

Clark dragged his feet towards the front porch where he could already smell the clean aroma of Martha Kent's fine home cooking. He opened the door quietly and slipped into the kitchen, hoping to make it to his room before his mother saw him.

"Jonathan? Is that you?" Martha whirled round from her place by the stove. "Oh, Clark. I thought it was your father."

Clark paused on the stairs, sheepishly. "Oh, hi Mom." He took in her flustered expression and asked, "Isn't dad here? Lex will be here soon."

Martha tried to cover up her concern. "I know. I expect he's just popped to the store or something. He'll be here, don't worry."

Clark puffed angrily, "It would probably make a better meal without him. Besides, Dad's already made it perfectly clear what he thinks of Lex. Why not spare Lex the torture?!"

Martha put her hands on her hips, "Clark! Don't talk about your father like that."

"Why not?! I'm sick of feeling like I have to hide my friendship with Lex. Every time I go to the mansion, I have to lie about where I've been just because I have to live with Dad's prejudices! I'm sick of it. Lex is trying, Mom. He's coming tonight. What about Dad? He's disappeared. Is this the role model I'm supposed to learn from? I'd rather get a lesson from the Luthors any day!"

"Clark, you find it so easy to see things from Lex's point of view, but you're a teenager. You don't understand how hard your father has worked to keep this farm running. The Luthors have never given hand outs without asking for something in return. Your father is only trying to preserve what he has worked hard for. Is that so wrong?" Martha checked her anger and her tone softened. "Honey, just think about what Lex has to lose in Smallville compared to your father. He's only trying to protect your future, Clark."

Clark nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing the point further. His gut instincts were right and he knew it. His father could hide behind the excuses all he wanted but the truth was Jonathan Kent just hated the Luthors - the name, the father, the son. As far as he was concerned, they were rotten to the core. Ignoring the pleading expression on his mother's face, Clark marched upstairs to get changed.

"Lex! Come on in." Clark could hear the undertones of anxiety in his mother's voice. He figured this meant Dad still hadn't shown up.

Lex's voice sounded even smoother and more self-assured in comparison. "I hope I'm not too early, Mrs. Kent." Clark entered just as Lex was pressing an expensive bottle of white wine into Martha's hand. "I wasn't sure what you were cooking, so I took a chance."

"Oh, it's perfect. Thank you, Lex. Wow! This is an excellent vintage." Seeing Clark, an expression of relief crossed her face. "Clark, would you make our guest comfortable. Get him a drink. I'll just see to the food." A slight smile crept to Lex's lips at the pampering he was getting. It happened everywhere he went. People treated him like royalty for one of two reasons - in the hope of getting money or because his money made them feel like lesser people. He hoped this didn't last long in the Kent household.

He turned to Clark, "She seems nervous."

Clark tried to disguise the worry he was starting to feel that his father wouldn't show up. "Oh, she's always like this when she's cooking for guests. Besides, I think she figures you'll have acquired very high taste from all those business trips."

"Ah. Well, there's nothing better than a home cooked meal. You can travel the world only to find the best is sitting at home."

"So this is home now? Smallville?" Clark inquired.

Lex paused as if detecting a trap and surveyed the teenager's face with his usual scrutiny. "Maybe."

The pair talked for a while, listening occasionally to the clattering sounds coming from the kitchen area. When Clark's stomach began growling with hunger, he couldn't help wondering how long his mother was going to put dinner off. As if party to his thoughts, Martha entered, "I'm sorry but I can't hold the potatoes off any longer or they'll be dry as a bone. You'd better come on through."

Before Lex could even ask the whereabouts of her husband, Martha had launched into a rather nervous monologue. "I'm so sorry about this, Lex. We seem to have lost Jonathan. I don't know where he's got to."

If Lex understood the subtext he didn't show it. "I understand, Mrs. Kent. Running a farm is a time-consuming job."

Martha attempted a relaxed smile. "Please, call me Martha. Now, Clark would you like to do the honours?" She passed her son the carving knife.

The conversation round the dinner table began very stilted but, with the help of Lex's good wine, the atmosphere soon grew more relaxed and merry. Lex had just as good an aptitude for making people feel at ease as he had for making them nervous and soon the three had all but forgotten Jonathan's conspicuous absence. In fact, just at the moment that Martha's inhibitions were starting to disintegrate, the front door slammed and Jonathan marched into the room. His face contorted into an expression of disappointment when he saw Lex sitting at the family dining table.

"Good evening, Mr. Kent." Lex offered, chirpily.

"Lex," was all Jonathan offered in response before his eyes moved to where his wife was sitting. "I'm sorry, honey. I got caught up at the store."

Martha shot him a look of fury. "Caught up? What's so complicated about a visit to the store? You've been gone for hours. We had no idea where you..." Her voice trailed off when she realised that she was starting a domestic in the middle of her dinner party.

Jonathan slipped out of his thick jacket and slid into the chair opposite Lex. "I'd rather not talk about it here, Martha." He looked at their guest from under a hooded brow. His affairs were exactly that and he was damned if the Kent family were going to be drawn into discussing finance again in front of a Luthor.

Lex ventured to break the ice. "Martha's been telling me all about the fishing at Waconda Lake. It sounds spectacular and, from what I hear, you're a hustler at hooking them."

Jonathan swallowed a mouthful of chicken. "Yeah, Clark and I went on a few fishing trips there until some state tycoon built a private reservoir there." He continued munching his food, seemingly oblivious to everyone else's discomfort.

Clark tried to rescue the situation. Clearly, Lex had been taking tips from Lana about finding common ground but now the teenager could confidently go back to her and say the 'common ground' clause didn't work with Mr. Kent. "Dad, do you remember that one year that I didn't catch anything the whole week, except for the very last day?"

Jonathan smiled at his son, "You were only six, Clark. I could barely find a rod small enough for you to hold. You did good."

Clark continued, "About two hours before we were heading home, I caught this tiny fish. I mean, there wasn't enough flesh on it for one person to eat. Anyway, Dad figured it was such a good catch that he had it stuffed and mounted. God knows what happened to it."

Jonathan laughed, "I've got it hanging over my work bench in the garage. Those were good times."

Lex watched the exchange between Clark and Jonathan with an unwelcome sense of longing. He had been given the lectures time and time again. He knew the score. Even the rich had yearnings for something money just couldn't buy. This must be it - those moments of familial love, knowing that someone wants you. How much he would give for just one of those.

Jonathan visibly mellowed. There was pride in his voice when he spoke. "Have you ever been fishing, Lex?"

"I've been fished, bait for a great white on a 'fishing trip' with my dad." He could see the excitement in Clark's eyes, the desire for such an opportunity. "Believe me, Clark, it wasn't as much fun as it sounds."

Clark snorted, "Yeah, but there aren't many thrills bigger than that!"

"There are other things in this world I'd rather have a close encounter with," Lex replied, quietly.

"Who's for desert?" Martha interjected as Clark opened his mouth to dispute Lex once again. "It's apple pie."

Lex smiled, "I can't imagine anything better than the first course, but I'm open to the possibility. Thank you, Martha."

Martha tried to ignore the messages she was sensing from Lex. In the few short hours they had spent together, her view had changed somewhat. Away from his cars and mansion, she felt a sort of motherly concern for his welfare. When all was said and done, he was still just a kid in her eyes. A kid who was starved of love.

The meal continued to go well and she was relieved that Jonathan seemed to be genuinely making an effort to avoid confrontation with Lex. The pair didn't exactly get on like a house on fire but they could hold a civil conversation together. The time flew by and it was into the small hours of the morning before anyone thought to look at a clock. Finally, Lex made his exit. "Well, thank you very much Mrs. Kent for such a fabulous meal. I can't remember the last time I ate so well."

"Oh, flattery will get you invited back anytime," Martha blushed.

Clark joined them at the door. "Just don't come when she's cooking meatloaf."

Martha hit her son's shoulder, playfully. "You should be in bed, young man. You've got school tomorrow."

Lex smiled at the thought. He sometimes wondered how he had managed to become such good friends with a kid who was still in high school. Their worlds were oceans apart and yet Clark was more mature than half the men he made daily business deals with. "Goodnight, Clark."

Martha made her excuses and left Jonathan and Lex alone to say goodbye. She didn't know what it would achieve but it wouldn't hurt to let the two have a moment of privacy. Lex offered his hand and Jonathan took it. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Kent. You've got a wonderful family."

"I know. I'd do anything to keep them safe."

"I'm sure you would." The warning wasn't lost on Lex. "Goodnight, Mr. Kent."

OK, PART TWO. WHAT DID YOU THINK? I'M STILL NOT SURE WHERE I WANT ALL THIS TO END UP BUT I'VE GOT A PRETTY GOOD IDEA. STILL, ANY FEEDBACK WOULD BE REALLY GREAT :)


	3. The Drive Home

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra 

See first chapter for disclaimers etc.

Thank you to my reviewers - you are lovely, super-duper people! I shall try & please :)

CHAPTER 3 : THE DRIVE HOME

Lex tried hard not to look back as the door of the Kent farmhouse closed behind him. Seeing the lights at the window, so cosy and friendly, might just bring back those pangs of regret that it was something he'd never have. Instead, he concentrated on finding the keys to his Porsche. He knew he'd put them in his coat pocket but...ah, there they were.

Sparing a second's glance towards Clark's bedroom window, he put his foot on the gas and headed towards the highway. Then, as soon as he was out of hearing range from the farm, Lex chose the loudest CD he could find and stuck it in the player. He needed something to pump him up, remind himself of what he'd told Clark once - that some people are destined to be alone. That was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to wish away. He was happy to be Lionel Luthor's son. It got him what he wanted, most of the time. If he wanted someone to wake up to in the morning there were plenty of girls ready to be his. Did it matter what their reasons were?

Pressing his foot harder on the pedal, Lex's impassive face showed a flicker of sadness, a feeling that he had learned to be a sign of weakness. What did he have to be sorry for? Nothing, that's what. Nothing.

The young man was so intent on his thoughts that he barely noticed the wrong turn he had made back at the fork. It was only when the road began to narrow into a dirt track that Lex's attention was drawn back to where he was going. He craned his neck forward, shining his fog lights to see if there were any signs to suggest where the hell he was. His efforts were fruitless and Lex slammed his hand onto the steering wheel in anger, "Damn!" His nerves were jangling as he inwardly chastised himself for being so stupid. Luthors didn't make errors, everything they did was deliberate.

Hitting the brakes, the car swerved and the tyres screeched in protest. The millionaire tried to accelerate and head back in the direction he had come, but the wheels simply spun wet mud and leaves against the back windscreen. Another expletive left his lips and Lex got out of the car, trying vainly to avoid the deepest trenches of mud. Popping the trunk, he blindly searched for a flashlight and shone it towards the forest floor. It was as he had feared, the Porsche was stuck. Frowning in irritation, he shone the light further up the road in both directions, hoping to see some sign that he was near civilisation. He didn't recognise anything about this place.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Lex swore under his breath when there was no signal. He was going to have to walk as far from the trees as possible. Looking into the sky, he could see the yellow glow of streetlights in the distance and decided that would be his best bet. The last thing he wanted to do was head back towards the Kent farm and, with the night chill drawing in, he wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Giving up on any attempts to preserve his Gucci shoes, Lex strode off into the darkness.

The paper trail between the bed and desk was steadily growing and Chloe was having trouble keeping it in check. She had been working on the Torch for a couple of years now and it was getting tough to pull out the best stories for showcasing. There was the one about Principal Kwan's death but that brought up way too many bad memories about her relationship with Justin Gaines. She chewed the end of her pen, pensively. It WAS a good story but maybe it featured a bit too much about her. Would she fall apart in the interview and end up losing out because they didn't think she was professional enough?

Flinging the pen down, Chloe rubbed her sore eyes and decided to turn her attention to her personal statement instead. It had started really well, listing all her interests and qualifications, but now she was down to writing about a word an hour. She had to make herself sound enthusiastic, motivated, quick to learn, brimming with good ideas and lots of pizzazz!

"Jeez, at this rate, I'll be lucky to make the deadline," the young journalist muttered under her breath. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this stumped for fitting words. This summer position meant a lot to her and Chloe was so afraid it would slip through her grasp because she got writer's block.

It was too late to head out to the Beanery for a coffee so she turned herself back to the task at hand, praying inspiration would hit her soon.

Lex knew Smallville was a dead end town but he hadn't banked on that being literal. Yet, the ever truthful torchlight lit up the bracken and long grass ahead of him. He had been following a track that led nowhere and now he was as far from his car as he was from the distant glow of lights. Lex tried his cell phone once more with no luck. Sighing in exasperation, he took his first step into the undergrowth.

The weeds and grass quickly gave way to small trees that gradually grew bigger and the millionaire began to wonder if he hadn't made his second mistake of the evening. His sense of direction was good but Lex hadn't exactly had a great deal of experience with cross-country treks. Taking off his long, waterlogged coat, he swore again as his foot plunged into a puddle of black mud and rain water. What would his father say if he were here to see this? There would be a sly comment about the virtues of good country living and a few historical lectures to boot. More likely, Lionel would have just told his son to watch the road more carefully.

Lex inwardly chastised himself. He should never have accepted the Kent dinner invitation. Who was he kidding? Martha could play mediator all she wanted but the truth of the matter was that Jonathan was only humouring her. He was only giving him the benefit of the doubt for Martha's sake. If she disappeared tomorrow, Lex's relationship with Mr. Kent would revert right back to the way it had started - like the aftermath of a car wreck.

The Luthor family didn't go in much for examining thoughts or motives but Lex had occasionally let his feelings about Clark Kent come to the forefront of his clinical mind. What made this high school kid worth the struggle with the Kents? Was it because beneath those clear, blue eyes there was something more sinister hiding? Clark spent so much of his time trying to do good by everyone - helping Whitney sort out his problems with Lana instead of moving in for the kill. It was as if he were trying to make atonement for a past sin, something he couldn't ever make up for. Lex had battled the demons of guilt many times himself and, with the help of his father, had always come out on top. 'There are two kinds of people in this world...', Lionel often said, '...winners and losers'. Lex knew which he wanted to be but he wasn't so sure about Clark. As the heir to the Luthor estate, the millionaire certainly wasn't looking for someone to show him the moral high ground he was missing out on, but beneath Clark Kent's do-gooding there was something to be afraid of. It was like the boy was eternally holding back. Lex was used to judging people quickly but parts of Clark simply reflected back at him. The teenager wasn't all good but he wasn't all bad either.

Lost in his thoughts, Lex missed his footing once more and fell, awkwardly twisting his ankle beneath him. Hissing in a breath, he gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position. He stifled a cry of pain as he put too much pressure on his injured ankle. It was only as he fumbled for the torch in the undergrowth that he noticed a strange floral smell, pungent and bitter. It assailed his nostrils with unwelcome vigour and Lex felt in his pockets for a tissue. Moving his arm quickly alerted him to a pain shooting from fingertips to shoulder. Looking down, he noticed small gashes from the brambles surrounding him. Some dirt had got into the sores, making them sting fiercely. Choosing to put his coat back on despite the soaked hem, Lex found the flashlight and cautiously continued on.

Lana pulled the rubber band out of her raven hair, releasing a little of the tension that had been building up in her skull for the past couple of hours. Nell usually found someone to cover the late night shift and closing up on school nights but she had been battling the flu. Lana felt it was her duty as Nell's adopted daughter to offer to do it. It was Thursday night after all, nearly the end of the week. Still, Lana was looking forward to tumbling into bed right about now.

Whitney had squeezed in an extra football practice and promised he'd swing by to help his girlfriend close up. Lana glanced at her watch. He had better show because she had already turned down the offer of a lift home from her colleague. She didn't fancy the long walk back to her aunt's house.

"Lana." With perfect timing, the blonde quarterback arrived. "I'm sorry I'm late. I got caught up back at the pitch."

Lana kissed him lightly on the lips and offered him a radiant smile. "That's okay. I've only just finished."

"Good day?" he enquired.

Lana rolled her eyes. "I just want to be home in bed. Thank goodness it's Friday tomorrow."

Whitney draped his jacket over her shoulders and put one arm around her petite waist. "You and me both. We're playing the Oklahoma Ogres on Saturday and it's an away match."

Lana paused in the act of locking the shop front. "What? You didn't tell me it was away?"

Whitney was typically unperturbed by her tone. "You never asked. We didn't have anything planned, right?"

Lana tried to hide her disbelief with a nonchalant shake of the head. "No, no, I guess not. Well, good luck." Her eyes met his and all she saw reflected there was a big football. Whitney wasn't even thinking about her. She'd always known sport came before her most of the time but occasionally Lana couldn't help remembering Lex's words to her in the coffee house. 'I just think you're with the wrong guy', he had said. Maybe he was right. But Clark? Was Clark right for her? He certainly gave her his full attention and wouldn't dream of crossing the state without so much as mentioning it. God knows, the pair had had their fair share of chances to get together, but one of them always shied away. Whitney needed her - he had told her himself, even Clark had told her. Was that why she stayed with him? Out of pity? Perhaps, but what was so wrong with that?

Lana looked up at her boyfriend's animated face, telling her the ins and outs of football practice, oblivious to her internal struggle. How could she tell him it wasn't right? She cared about him, she could help him. Clark never truly needed her. The truth was, Lana could never imagine Clark needing her around. He loved her, but then she thought she had loved Whitney once. Love comes and goes just like the love her parents had shown her before they died. Lana wanted to be needed.

Whitney's arm tightened around her waist. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

OK, THAT'S PART 3. I'VE HAD A BIG CHANGE OF HEART ABOUT THE STORYLINE BUT I MIGHT STILL INCORPORATE MY ORIGINAL IDEAS IN, TOO. SUFFICE TO SAY IT WILL CONTINUE TO BE LEX ORIENTATED EXCEPT THAT I REALLY LIKE TO GIVE A ROUNDED TOWN FEEL I.E. LETTING ALL THE REGULAR CHARACTERS HAVE THEIR LITTLE MOMENTS.

I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE STILL ENJOYING IT! HOPEFULLY, I'LL GET ANOTHER PART UP WITHIN THE NEXT 2 DAYS. THANKS FOR READING :)


	4. Favours

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra 

See first chapter for disclaimers etc.

CHAPTER 4 : FAVOURS

Chloe had finally given up on the idea of getting her personal statement finished that night and instead figured a walk might get her brain cells firing again. As she headed down the street, she wondered if Clark would still be in his barn. She sighed. Even if he was, it was too far to walk and you never knew who was hiding out in those woods. Besides, the lovelorn expression on his face as he peered through his telescope at Lana was just too much for Chloe.

Ever since she could remember, Clark had had a thing for Lana Lang. It was like an irresistible urge to be close to her. She was the forbidden fruit and as long as it was forbidden, Clark would want it. Chloe, on the other hand, was always available. The only monopoly on her time was the school paper and that just made her feel even more of a loser. If she could just become a cheerleader or something, maybe get herself a boyfriend, it might alert Clark to the fact that she is actually a girl under that friend demeanour.

No matter which way she looked at it, Chloe realised that her love life was just chasing round in one big circle. She wanted Clark, Clark wanted Lana, Lana seemed to want Whitney. Maybe she should hook up with Whitney and tidy things up a little bit, Chloe chuckled mirthlessly.

She pulled her coat tighter across her chest and crossed to the other side of the street. Everything was hopeless. If only a knight in shining armour would appear beside her now, offering to sweep her away from Smallville. Chloe was roughly pulled from her reverie by the sound of rustling on the outskirts of the woods. The teenager could hear twigs snapping and leaves rustling so it couldn't be a mass murderer, well not a stealthy one anyway. Then again, look at the 'Scream' movies, the murderers were complete klutzes but they still got their victims.

Shuddering at the thought, Chloe took a step back from the tree line and pulled out her mobile phone, paused to dial the police if anything other than a deer showed its face. The young journalist couldn't have been more shocked by what she saw.

The battered shape of Lex Luthor emerged, still battling with the brambles clutching at his long coat. "Lex?" Chloe breathed in astonishment.

Lex narrowed his eyes to focus on the shadow ahead of him. Chloe stepped forward into the glow of the streetlights. He seemed as surprised as she was to find someone else out there so late. "Chloe?" He brushed determinedly at the remaining grub on his clothes and carefully picked his way to the pavement. "What are you doing out here? It's late."

Chloe tried to ignore the unwelcome fatherly tone and smiled, "I might ask you the same thing. I didn't take you for the botanist type." She tried to suppress the laughter that threatened to erupt at the image of the ever-pristine Lex Luthor looking more like David Bellamy than a millionaire.

"My car broke down," replied, matter-of-factly, and produced his cell phone to call the mansion. Organising the pick-up, Lex turned back to Chloe. "So, that's my reason for walking the streets of Smallville at this time. What's yours?"

Chloe shrugged as they sat down on the bus shelter bench. "I'm trying to get on this summer program at the Metropolis Globe but I just can't seem to get my statement together. As soon as I think about all the other applicants, everything I write just falls apart." She smiled shyly at Lex's intent gaze. "Stupid, huh?"

"Chloe, I'll admit I've never read your high school paper but that interview you did with me at the mansion proves what a high standard of journalism you possess. Don't do yourself down. My father always told me, 'Losers never win and winners never lose'. If you think negatively, you're bound to fail. You've just got to put yourself out there."

Chloe mumbled, "Oh, that's encouraging. Thanks, Lex."

Lex smiled at the image of Chloe holed up in her bedroom, wading through newspaper articles like this was her last chance to leave Smallville. He had never needed to think about it. There was very little that Lex Luthor hadn't been handed on a plate. "Everything in life is a test, Chloe. How you handle it tells you a bit more about the kind of person you are."

"You mean grab life with both hands? That's what I've been trying to do but Smallville doesn't exactly give a girl much to go on."

Lex thought for a moment. From the way Clark talked about her, he knew Chloe had it in her to succeed and get the summer program, but maybe she needed a little boost. "How about I make you a deal? You put together the best portfolio you can and I'll make sure you get on that program."

Chloe stared at him incredulously. "You'd do that?" Her excited face suddenly fell. "No, I can't. I should do this on my own merits."

Lex smiled at yet another example of strong morals the youth of Smallville seemed to hold. "Chloe, making your way in this world isn't always about going it alone. It's about exploiting the opportunities that come your way." He watched the range of emotions cross the girl's face before adding, "Come on, Chloe. You want this summer program, don't you?"

She looked up at the man beside her. Maybe he was the knight in shining armour Chloe had been looking for. "Thank you, Lex. That'd be really great."

The moment was broken by the arrival of Lex's limousine. "Let me give you a lift home." Lex opened the rear door for Chloe, wincing a little as his coat rubbed against the scratches on his arm.

Chloe noticed the furrowed brow, "Are you okay?"

Lex brushed away her concern. "Yeah, just a scratch." Sliding into the seat beside her, his mind wandered to the four poster bed awaiting him at the mansion. He was too tired to make much more than courteous bits of conversation, but from the expression on Chloe's face, it looked as if she was thinking the same thing.

Clark's back was aching. He had fallen asleep in the barn last night and his mom had decided to pull a blanket over him rather than wake him. Starting the morning in crumpled clothes and furry teeth didn't exactly give him the boost he needed to get going. Showering away the tiredness, he had almost missed the school bus and had managed to forget his geometry text book.

"Just ignore him, Chlo," Pete rialled. "It's the Kent hundred yard stare again. Don't get in the way. No prizes for guessing why." Chloe looked at Pete, quizzically. "He's got colonial American history with a certain raven-haired woman."

Chloe smiled, "Ah, all becomes clear. Hey, maybe I should do an article of the male obsession with things they can't have. What do you think, Clark?"

Turning his attention away from the window, he mumbled, "Oh, yeah, sounds good."  
Pete and Chloe laughed and Clark looked offended, "What? What did I say?"

Chloe patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Clark. I hope the redecoration of your cerebral Lana-shrine is going well, though."

Clark gave his friends a withering glare. "Actually, I wasn't thinking about Lana. I was thinking about Lex."

Pete feigned a startled expression. "Now that was a pairing I hadn't thought of."

"My mom invited him for dinner last night."

Chloe frowned, "I thought your dad hated the Luthors?"

"He does, that's why my mom invited him. She figured she could make some peace between my dad and Lex."

"So how did it go?" Pete asked.

"I guess it went okay, considering. But I just feel guilty."

"Guilty?" Chloe queried.

Clark fiddled with the tags on his backpack. "Lex is my friend and I don't like that he has to be kept at arm's length all the time. I mean, it's embarrassing enough that he has to come to for dinner to prove himself but it's worse listening to my dad trying to make him feel uncomfortable. Lex deserves better. I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall about the Luthors sometimes. Dad's reaction makes me feel like such a kid."

Chloe smiled, wanly. She didn't want to mention her run-in with Lex the previous night because it would only bring up the subject of what she was doing out there in the first place. That would inevitably lead to her having to lie about his offer to give her the journalist space. As editor of the school paper, Chloe prided herself on knowing a lie when she saw one. Pete and Clark would probably know she was covering something in a heartbeat.

Still, she couldn't help thinking about what Clark was saying and agree a bit with Mr. Kent. Lex was a shady figure to be around - he freaked people out even when he was being nice. He had basically offered to fiddle the judging on the summer program to get Chloe accepted. That wasn't exactly the kind of action that inspired a whole lot of confidence in a person. If he could pull strings for a friend, he could just as easily pull them again to make another enemy suffer. "Give your dad some time, Clark. Lex has only just moved to Smallville after all. He's got to prove he's made of the right mettle. Your dad's just being cautious. Don't forget, Lex did try to buy your friendship with a truck."

Clark widened his eyes, insulted on Lex's behalf. "Hey, he gave me that truck as a thank you for saving his life. He figure he owed me. That was not an attempt to buy friendship! He got my friendship when I pulled him out of the water."

Chloe raised her hands in mock defence. "Okay, sorry I spoke. All I'm saying is that, given what the Luthors have done in the past, your parents have a right to show Lex that they don't play his games. They're just laying the ground rules. Once your dad's sure Lex has got the message, he'll probably lighten up."

Clark hoped she was right, but it didn't mean he was going to get out of doing the house deliveries this evening. There was always a massive order from the Luthor mansion and it was inevitable he'd bump into Lex.

The day dragged on and when Clark woke up that morning he hadn't banked on things getting as bad and embarrassing as they did. It all happened in the middle of science. Mr. Palance was buys expounding the possibilities of cross-breeding different species of poisonous fish when Clark's mind had started wandering to where Lana was sitting a few seats in front of him. At first, the thoughts had been fairly innocent but slowly they had increased in intensity and he could feel the heat vision he had recently acquired beginning to take effect. Before he could do anything to stop it, Clark had set light to Barry Francis' book bag that was placed a little too close to the teenager's line of sight.

Pretty soon, the bag was smoking then smouldering until someone mentioned a burning smell and all eyes turned to the first blue flames flickering out of poor Barry's bag. The kid was sent directly to the principal's office for a slap on the wrist about the hazards of bringing cigarettes to school. Clark felt pretty bad about the whole incident but he couldn't really go and get Barry off the hook. What was he supposed to say? 'Sorry, sir, I accidentally let my sexual desire for Lana Lang get out of hand and it activated my heat vision'. Clark's parents might have brought him up with a strong sense of good morals but he decided even they would rather he shielded himself from discovery than tell the truth on this occasion.

Instead, he averted his thoughts the only way he knew how. "Hey, Lana!" The brunette's silky hair cascaded around her shoulders as she turned. "Hi, Clark." She paused as if waiting for him to ask a question, assuming he had come over for a reason. Awkwardly realising the teenager had simply sought out her company, she quickly covered her tracks. "So, how did dinner with Lex hold up?"

Already at the point where he had thought himself into circles over the issue and bored his friends to tears, Clark decided against pouring the whole story out to the girl of his dreams as well. "Oh, fine. I guess I was just overreacting," he lied. If the truth be told, the affair had gone down pretty well given the possible turns it could have taken. Clark just figured that where Lex was concerned, maybe he was unnecessarily sensitive.

Lana nodded and kindly ignored her cue for an 'I told you so' speech. "Are you going to the bonfire party on Saturday?" she enquired, casually.

Clark looked at her steadily, weighing up why she might be asking. "Uh, maybe. Chloe is covering it for the school paper and she asked me to give her a few sound-bites, so I probably will. How about you?" He tried to sound as innocuous as possible but the unspoken sub-conversation constantly in motion between him and Lana wouldn't take much reading to figure what he was really asking.

"I don't know. Whitney's playing football in Oklahoma so I might have an evening in." Clark opened his mouth to pounce on the opportunity to ask for a date but was stopped by two of Lana's girlfriends appearing on the scene.

"Lana, are you coming? We've got half an hour to cram for the maths test."

Lana rolled her eyes in Clark's direction. "Sorry, Clark. I'll catch up with you later."

"Sure." Clark tried to hide the disappointment in his face. If she'd wanted to go with him to the bonfire party, wouldn't she have told her friends she'd catch up with them or something? Was that just a really useful way out for her to avoid going on a date with him? If she looked back over her shoulder, he'd know she still liked him. He watched the group of girls round the corner but Lana did not so much as glance back in his direction.

Lex had slept long and hard the previous night, his exertions in the woods catching up with him somewhat. At least he didn't have any pressing meetings or deadlines to meet today. He had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in bed and, noticing the time, had finally figured it was time to have a shower and start the day properly.

Picking out some black slacks and a comfy sweater, he ducked into the shower. The hot water heated up his cool skin and he lathered up with pine scented shower gel. He closed his eyes against the bright daylight and savoured the sensation of hot water trickling down his back. It was only when the shower gel reached his arm that he hissed in a breath and glanced down at the superficial scratches he had received out in the woods. Lex twisted his arm as far as it would go, craning his neck to see how severe the damage was. The thin bramble scratches had inflamed into angry red track marks, swelling the skin around them into ridges of sensitive flesh. On closer inspection, he noticed tiny black specks of dirt resting in the open wounds. Carefully rinsing off the shower gel, Lex finished his shower and gingerly pulled a bathrobe over his arm.

He would have to wash the wound out properly and that wasn't going to be easy by himself when the cuts were on his right arm. He instantly regretted giving the staff a day off. Still, he was a big boy, he could bandage a few bramble cuts by himself. God knows he had dressed more wounds than this in his time. Giving it no further thought, Lex headed back into the bedroom.

END OF PART 4 - SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY! I HOPE YOU'RE STILL ENJOYING IT. I'M SORRY IF IT'S MOVING A LITTLE SLOWLY, I PROMISE IT'S GETTING TO SOME GOOD STUFF.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I'D LOVE TO HEAR ANY FEEDBACK OR SUGGESTIONS.


	5. Big City Values

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra

See part one for disclaimers etc.  
THANKS TO POLLY FOR HELPING ME OVER WRITER'S BLOCK IN THE LAST PARAGRAPH! HOPE EVERYONE'S STILL ENJOYING IT. AS USUAL, ANY FEEDBACK OR SUGGESTIONS WOULD BE REALLY, REALLY WONDERFUL :)

CHAPTER 5 : BIG CITY VALUES

Chloe Sullivan had been outside the Metropolis Globe for all of five minutes before deciding she hadn't got the internship. Just seeing the building and all the other young people who she was convinced were handing in their c.v.'s brought her confidence down after a car trip of building it up.

Her dad had kindly agreed to take an afternoon off work to drive her there so she could hand in the required information in person. He had even spoken to the school principal to secure his daughter an afternoon off. He had actually been pretty supportive and Chloe knew that he was proud of her achievements on the school paper. He always mentioned it when friends came round, much to the teenager's embarrassment.

Putting an arm round her, Gabe Sullivan squeezed Chloe's shoulder. "Honey, you're every bit as good a journalist as the writers on the Globe. Hell, you're good enough to be on the Daily Planet."

Chloe tried to calm herself. "Dad, don't get carried away. I only write for the Smallville high school rag. These people have interviewed the President of the United States, Nelson Mandela, even Michael Jackson... I've got a long way to go before I'm good enough for the Daily Planet."

Gabe tapped the large brown envelope she was holding. "Well, you'll never know unless you take the first step, honey. Come on. What's the worst that could happen?"

Chloe puffed out a pent-up breath and pinned him with a 'don't even go there' expression. "Fine. You're right. I should just get this over and done with." Marching towards the front doors, she put on her best pushy journalist armour and handed in her C.V.

As soon as the ordeal was over, her dad took Chloe out for a posh meal at an exclusive Thai restaurant he had been to on business. At first, all Chloe had noticed was the weight lifted off her chest but then the first pangs of guilt kicked in. This wasn't luck of draw or a case of the best journalist winning - Lex was going to fix it for her. Up until this moment, she had still felt like she was working for the opportunity to work on the paper. Now that she was left to imagine the editor choosing young proteges for the summer, Chloe could only picture Lex Luthor's phone call or unannounced visit. There were different versions of it, too. There was the one where he played the heavy and slammed the newspaper editor against the wall and choked him with his tie. Then there was the suave, sophisticated Lex Luthor who played mind games and manipulated situations to his advantage with alluring offers and seductive words. Chloe liked the second one better, but in truth, she wasn't sure either of them sounded too great. Did she really want to get her foot on the ladder this way? Muddying the waters before she had even begun?

Whether she believed all the gossip about Lex, Chloe had heard enough stories about his father to know that the Luthors never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. It always involved payback. Chloe wondered how long it would be before Lex came knocking for his reward. Her dad had talked many times about the families that the Luthors wiped out in Smallville in the name of booming business. Chloe shuddered at the thought that she might bring about her own family's downfall. Gabe worked for Luthorcorp so the Sullivans already relied on Luthor jobs to pay the mortgage.

"Is everything okay, hon?" Gabe's concerned face moved into Chloe's vision.

Quickly replacing her frown with an elated smile, she nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I was just pondering my future." She turned her attention to the elaborate meal spread in front of her. "Wow, this looks amazing."

"It beats school dinners by a long way, I should think." Gabe smiled at his daughter. He was so proud of how confident and determined his little Chloe had become. There had been moments when he had been afraid that Smallville wouldn't be enough for her but quite the contrary had happened. Chloe had found her feet in the small Kansas town. She had been given a rare opportunity to be the big fish in the small pond for a while. Now, she was striking out into the bigger lakes and really taking her chances in the real world. Gabe couldn't have asked for a more wonderful child. Taking in her happy face and warm demeanour, he found it difficult to believe anyone could turn his daughter down.

The pair spent a carefree day together taking full advantage of a half day off school and work to see the sites of Metropolis without hordes of tourists squeezing them out of the best viewpoints. They ate ice creams and shopped for music in the superstores. It wasn't until she left the confines of Smallville that Chloe realised how much choice there was out there and how quickly she could spend her weekly allowance. Fortunately, her father seemed in a full-father mode today and happily slid her an extra fifty bucks for the outfit she had her eye on. Chloe had tried on the most wonderful pair of hipster trousers that rode just low enough to flash a bit of sexy flash but didn't require full 'shaving leg' mode. They made her feel a bit Britney without any kind of trampy vibe. She felt a bit bad when her dad gave her money. Maybe if he'd seen them he wouldn't have been so keen. Still, what he didn't know until they reached the city limits of Smallville wouldn't hurt him, right?

On the car journey home, Chloe succumbed to the fatigue that she had denied all day. Sliding down in her seat, she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic roll of the wheels on the tarmac. The stress of worrying about the summer intern job had taken its toll, not to mention the hours of traipsing around the city. Still, something gnawed at her conscience. Chloe hadn't been able to rid herself of Lex's offer and her acceptance of it. It had brought her day down and, leaving the allure of Metropolis behind her, Chloe's scruples returned to Smallville standard. It was wrong to take hand outs. It would eat away at her that she'd never know whether she had truly deserved that job or if it was just Lex's underhand dealings that had helped her out. Suddenly alert again, Chloe resolutely decided to go to the mansion that evening and reject Lex's gift.

Once at home, she tarried at home to talk to her mom about what a great time they'd had in Metropolis and try on her new trousers before ducking out to Clark's. She figured it would be wrong to the Luthor mansion without so much as an appeasement gift. Chloe remembered how much Lex loved Martha Kent's apple pies. If she could spare one, that might go a little way to make up for sounding so ungrateful.

Mrs. Kent was happy to oblige and offered to warm it up for her while she stopped in to see Clark. Chloe climbed the stairs to the barn, carefully trying not to get farm muck on the hems of her trousers. They were quite long in the leg and needed kitten heels to avoid trailing so she felt a bit more self-conscious in such a get-up.

Clark's eyes widened in admiration at the new, sexy Chloe. "Who are you? You look a bit like my best friend but I don't think she's got anything that revealing in her closet." Chloe tried not to blush and quickly moved further into the shadows so he couldn't see the colour creeping to her cheeks.

She smoothed sweaty palms against her thighs, "Oh, I got them in Metropolis today. I was just trying them on to make sure, you know, they didn't split up the butt or something." Chloe hadn't really given this meeting with Clark much thought but suddenly she felt naked under his gaze. She had kept her feelings for him pretty well hidden all this time but she couldn't help wondering if this was how Lana felt when Clark looked at her. It felt strange and awkward so Chloe quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, I just thought I'd drop by and see if I missed anything important at school today."

Clark shook his head, his eyes still wandering to the stretch of bare flesh at Chloe's midriff. "No, nothing major. Mr. Kelvin set us a French test for next week, just some vocabulary. I can give it to you now if you want."

Chloe didn't want to sound like too much of a geek but figured she'd better say yes. If she said no, it would make her pretext for coming a bit shaky. She felt so clandestine for not telling Clark about her meeting with Lex, but somehow she felt too ashamed for even agreeing to let him fix the internship. She couldn't imagine Clark ever letting Lex do that for him. He had even given back the truck Lex gave him for saving his life. Chloe was afraid her friends would judge her if she told them the truth. It just felt weird. They all had their secrets but secrets involving other people made the whole affair seem sordid.

Taking the vocabulary sheet from Clark, Chloe backed towards the steps. "Anyway, your mom's probably heated my pie, so I'd better get it back or my parents will have a fit." She knew she was sounding flustered and strange but for some reason, Chloe just couldn't get the steadiness back in her voice. "I'll see you on the bus tomorrow, Clark."

"Sure." Clark watched his friend's blonde head disappear down the steps and mulled over her uncharacteristic behaviour. In fact, he'd never seen Chloe be so weird. Maybe she'd been eating meteor rocks or something, he dismissed.

Chloe pulled up outside the grand entrance to the Luthor mansion. The gates were open so she figured it was an invitation rather than having to use the embarrassing intercom system. Would she say it was Chloe or Chloe Sullivan? How well did Lex know her? The whole cringing experience was better avoided. Grabbing the pie from the passenger seat, she locked the door and braced herself for knocking on the imposing front door.

The sound of her knuckles against the old oak resounded through the cavernous entrance hall and Chloe suddenly felt somewhat embarrassed and small. She could sense the feisty journalist in her diminishing, pummelled into retreat by the simpering school girl. What right did she have to come knocking on the mansion doors of millionaires? Still, it was too late to turn back now and, hearing the echoing footsteps of expensive shoes on the marble floor, Chloe steeled herself.

"Chloe!" Lex tried to contain his surprise. He had purposely made himself unavailable for the better part of the day and had been enjoying the rare opportunity to catch up on smaller business matters which had escaped his attention. As his father laboured regularly, the speck of dust that we overlook only grows into a meteor of destruction. Lex had been surprising Lionel with his business skills so far and he was damned if he would let himself get shown up now. Smallville was just starting to get interesting.

Chloe shifted uncertainly in the doorway, trying to ignore the way Lex's eyes had subtly roamed over her appearance. She had almost forgotten about the trousers she had left on from her shopping spree to Metropolis. "That certainly doesn't look like the kind of outfit Nell Potter would sell in her boutique."

Chloe blushed, "Oh, my dad took me to Metropolis today. I was just, you know, trying things on, making sure they didn't split in unseemly places..." Her voice trailed away when she realised the implications of what she had just said. "That is to say..., I mean..."

A half smile crept to Lex's lips but he quickly opened the door wide. "You look stunning, Miss Sullivan. What can I do for you?"

Gathering her wits again, Chloe said, "Actually, it's what you can't do for me."

Lex motioned towards his office, sensing that this wasn't going to be a social call. "You don't want me to pull any strings over the newspaper internship," he stated then turned to see her stunned reaction.

Chloe nodded, "How did you guess?"

Lex shrugged. "Let's just say my friendship with Clark has opened my eyes to the strong morals Smallville teenagers seem to have. I figured it was only a matter of time before your conscience got the better of you. You know, Chloe, there's nothing wrong with accepting a helping hand from those better able to give it."

Chloe dropped her bag onto the chair in front of Lex's desk. "I know, I just... I want to know that I have what it takes to be a real journalist. I don't want to think that I've got somewhere because I had friends in high places and not talent. I want to start out on the right foot."

Lex nodded, unruffled. "I understand."

Chloe bit her lip, trying vainly to think of something nicer to say. "Oh, I brought you something as a kind of 'thank you'. It's hard to know what to get a guy who can have anything but I figured the way to a man's heart is through his stomach so...". She rummaged in her bag and produced the pie she had brought from the Kent farm. "Here."

Lex opened the cardboard box and inhaled the sweet aroma of home-made apple pie. Local produce was something he never tired of. He'd rather have a lifetime of staple food from the people of Smallville than all the silver service dinners Metropolis restaurants could offer. It was something about the heart and soul of what its producers put into the food; the knowledge that real time and effort had gone into rolling the pastry and making little dough leaves to adorn the crust. There were no accolades or certificates to be earned at the end, just the satisfaction of a job well done and friends and family who would get enjoyment from the labour. "Thank you, Chloe. I'd recognise a Kent apple pie anywhere."

Chloe shrugged in embarrassment, "Well, I know it's not much considering what you offered but..."

"It's perfect, especially since I gave my staff some time off and cooking has never been my strong point." Noticing that Chloe was still standing awkwardly behind the chair, he tried to ease her discomfort. He could imagine rejecting a Luthor offer must have been difficult for a teenager but it was hardly a big deal to Lex. The least he could do was show it. "I'm not being a very good host. Can I offer you anything to drink?"

Chloe eyed the cut crystal decanters, wondering whether he meant alcohol or something his staff would rustle up in the kitchen. Playing it safe, she declined. "No, thanks."

Lex lifted the decanter and hissed in a sharp breath as fiery pain shot up his arm where he had been cut the previous night. Chloe looked up in concern. "Lex, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he replied, curtly. It was lie; his hand hurt like hell, but Lex didn't want to draw attention to what seemed to be such a superficial wound. He released his other fist which was tightly gripping the wounded arm so that he didn't drop the decanter. Shakily, he placed the crystal back on the tray and moved away from the sideboard.

Chloe stepped into relentless journalist mode and couldn't hold back the jibe. "Yeah, you look fine. I've always thought that colour green worked well for you."

Lex sat down in his chair to compose himself once more. "It's just a scratch." He hunted for an alternative route of conversation but wasn't exactly sure what else he was supposed to talk to Chloe about besides her newspaper and that was going to be a sore subject this evening. She was a lovely girl, intelligent and pretty with a bit of big-city sass, but there was an ocean of difference in the way they led their lives. What on earth could they have to talk about for longer than five minutes? Then again, the same could be said about him and Clark.

Before he could turn his guest's attention away from his own physical ailments, Chloe had moved round the table to him. She had been thrown the rag and she wasn't about to let go. "Can I see?" Lex tried to pull his hand away but Chloe caught it and examined the bandage, raising her eyebrows in chastisement. "That is the worst bandage job I've seen since candy-striping in Metropolis. You're going to have to undo it."

Lex was going to protest more adamantly but the truth was that the pain had been steadily spreading down his arm to his fingertips and anything someone could do to ease the throbbing would be welcomed. "Well, I'm not exactly ambidextrous," he retorted.

Chloe smiled, unravelling the white linen. "Yeah, that much is obvious." She reached the end of the material and Lex caught her flinch a little at the angry red skin she found beneath. "Jeez, that's horrible. What happened?" Her fingers prodded the tender, swollen flesh and Lex hitched his breath in. Chloe turned wide, blue eyes on his. "Sorry. You really need some anti-histamines or something." Wrapping the bandage firmly around the millionaire's slender wrist, Chloe tied it off. "Seriously, Lex, how did this happen? There could be a fracture."

Lex shook his head, "No, I'm sure it's not that. It was something in the woods last night."

"Shouldn't you see a doctor?" Chloe enquired, anxiously.

"I will if it doesn't improve. I've been pretty busy today..." Lex broke off. He didn't need to explain himself to Chloe. "Besides, I don't want it to end up in the pages of your little newspaper." He spoke with a smile on his lips but Chloe's jaw dropped open in shock.

"Hey, I'd never go airing people's private health matters. It's unethical as well as being morally reprehensible..." She stopped when she Lex' lips curl into laughter. Realising she'd been had, Chloe laughed it off lightly. Then on a more serious note, she tentatively asked, "You don't really think I'd do that, do you?"

"Of course not. Although, big city journalism is a corrupt world. Don't let it change who you are, Chloe." Lex hadn't intended to sound so sincere. He had simply never seen such honest people as those he had encountered in Smallville. A few years ago he never would have thought it, but now he wished there were more like Clark, Chloe and Lana.

Chloe glanced at her watch and gasped. "God, look at the time! I'd better get going or my parents will call the police or something equally embarrassing and melodramatic."

Lex stood up as she pulled on her jacket and headed for the door. "Well, good luck with the internship."

Chloe grinned, "Thank you. Bye, Lex."

She was just turning the handle when Lex called back, "Chloe? You haven't mentioned last night to anyone by any chance?"

Chloe frowned, "No. Why?"

Lex shrugged, "A man's got a reputation to preserve."

Chloe nodded in grim acknowledgement. "Your secret's safe with me."


	6. Friendly Conversations

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra

Sorry everyone that this next part has taken so long. My dad borrowed my computer, taking all my half finished chapters to work with him, but I've backed up all the copies now so hopefully it can't happen again! I hope you like it & please, please, please let me know what you think - what you'd like to see happen etc. It really keeps me going :)

See part one for disclaimers etc.

CHAPTER 6 : FRIENDLY CONVERSATIONS

Despite living only a mile away from the girl of his dreams, Clark didn't have many excuses to go over to Lana and Nell's house. In fact, he didn't really have a legitimate reason this time either. Usually, he could make up some excuse about his mom baking too many pies and would they like some? This time, there was no safety net. The mission was plain and simple, ask Lana to the bonfire party the next evening. There could be no pretences that he was just passing by and thought he'd drop in.

Even now, as he walked up the path to the porch door, Clark could barely believe he was going to ask Lana Lang on a date. Both of them wanted it, even Lana couldn't deny that, but Clark always seemed to find himself giving out mixed signals. He wanted her for himself but whenever her relationship with Whitney was in peril, Clark found himself giving a lending hand instead of taking advantage of a bitter situation. It would take two hands to count the number of times Lex had offered advice about grasping opportunities when they opened, looking out for number one. Still, Clark couldn't bring himself to use other people's misfortunes to better his own position, even if that person happened to have the one thing the teenager desired most.

Now, Clark was finally going to grab the bull by the horns. Ignoring his heart hammering in his chest, Clark knocked on the screen door. A moment later, any flight mechanism in his brain was out of his hands as Lana appeared. "Clark, hi!"

"Hi." His gaze drifted from her face to her paint-stained hands. "Painting?"

Lana rubbed her hands against the already stained denim of her jeans. "Art assignment for Mrs. Linley. I figured I'd better get it done before Whitney comes over."

She had pushed open the screen door and led Clark to the swinging bench seat in the shade of the porch where tea light flames flickered along the banisters. Clark tried to ignore how soft and romantic the setting had become; it only made him feel even more like he was coveting what shouldn't be his. "I thought Whitney was in Oklahoma this weekend?"

If Lana noticed the strained note in Clark's voice she didn't show it. Re-lighting a candle, she replied, "He is. He's leaving first thing tomorrow morning." She turned back to give him her full attention, pulling one leg under the other on the wooden seat. Clark could almost feel the heat of her body close to his and it was making him nervous. He hoped his recently acquired heat vision didn't choose to kick in now. "Clark, are you all right?"

Startled that she had noticed his discomfort, Clark stammered, "Yeah, fine. Why?"

Lana's eyes bore into him. "You just seem a bit...agitated."

"No, I'm fine. That is, I've just got something on my mind." Clark couldn't seem to stop the regurgitation of words tumbling out of his mouth. Lana's face was growing more concerned. "Do you want to share it with me?"

Clark was about to decline the offer but thought better of it. He knew what he wanted to say and there was no point in putting it off. "Actually, yes. I was just wondering if you were busy tomorrow evening? There's the bonfire party down in Marty's west field. Most of the year are going and I figured if Whitney was away..." He tailed off, suddenly aware of the implications of what he had just said. Admitting that he was moving in on her because Whitney wouldn't be there probably wasn't the best way in to winning a girl's heart.

Lana's face was a figure of confusion. He had clearly taken her unawares and she was having difficulty deciding exactly what Clark was implying. "Uh, Clark, that's a really nice offer but..."

Clark couldn't stand to watch her usual composure turn into floundering and blurted out, "Just as friends, a chaperone if you like." There it was. He'd blown it in under two seconds. Friends. How he hated that word. It symbolised all the problems in his life, not least of which involved Lana Lang. It was what made his secret so difficult to preserve, it was the one bar standing between him and his father over Lex Luthor, and now friendship tortured him in love as well.

Still, the only upside was that Lana's face cleared instantly and radiance replaced the vague worry. "Sure, I'd love to, Clark. Thanks for thinking of me."

Clark stood up, abruptly. "Great, I'll pick you up about eight?"

Lana looked up at him in surprise. "You're going? Can't I offer you a drink or something?"

Clark all but stumbled off the step as he backed away towards his exit. "No, thanks. You've got your painting to finish and...uh, I've got a ton of chores to do. I'll just, uh, see you tomorrow night."

Lana smiled, graciously. "Okay. Bye, Clark."

"Bye!" The words had no sooner left his lips than Clark found himself halfway down the path and almost to the gate. He could still feel Lana's eyes on his back but inside he was cursing himself for his foolishness. Lex was right. He'd never be happy if he didn't take a risk every once in a while. He had intended to take that risk tonight but, as usual, Clark had blown it with the promise that nothing would happen. He cursed himself under his breath once more. Clark wondered if Lana would even believe he still fancied her if he reassured her at every turn that there was no danger of it. Soon, their relationship would take that final turn down the friendship route once and for all, irreparable damage.

Cutting across the road into the cornfields, Clark started running. He needed to clear his mind and let off steam and sixty miles an hour was the only way to do it.

Saturday morning swung around all too quickly. What had appeared to be the first in a sequence of Lana-wooing events had rapidly deteriorated into something more depressing. Thanks to his big mouth, Clark had dashed any hopes of making a move on the girl. Marty's bonfire party was gradually seeming and increasingly depressing prospect. Clark knew he should be grateful that he was going to be spending some time alone with the girl of his dreams, but when that fantasy wasn't going anywhere, it was just torture.

Martha Kent had managed to ignore her son's sulking for the better part of the morning but by midday it was starting to get to her. He had flicked through all the channels on the television about fifty times and grunted nonchalantly whenever she mentioned the lovely day he was missing outside. Her teenage son had refused to talk about the cause of his foul mood but Martha had a fairly good idea. There was only ever one cause for Clark's crabbiness and it usually followed a trip across to Nell's house.

Finally, she had thrown a box down in front of him. "Clark, if you're not going to be cheerful, the least you can do is be helpful. Take these provisions over to the Luthor mansion."

Clark looked distastefully at the wooden box. "You just think Lex will cheer me up."

Martha sighed, "Well, it wouldn't hurt."

Clark stood up and deftly lifted the heavy box from the coffee table. "Fine, I'll take the stuff, but I'm not hanging around to talk to Lex. He can't help me, in fact he'll only make me feel worse." Mumbling something unintelligible that Martha was grateful not to have caught, Clark headed out to the truck.

Lex had arranged for the garden furniture to be set up under the trees in the extensive gardens behind the mansion. With his back to the overpowering building, for a moment or two he could forget about the ties that bound him - work, his father, the Luthor name. It was just him, the newspaper and nature in full bloom. Life could be pretty damn beautiful sometimes, if he just found the time to lift his head from the books long enough to see it.

He winced inwardly as his reached for the glass of iced tea. Lex's arm wasn't feeling any better than it had yesterday. In fact, if anything, it was starting to feel worse. That was one side of Mother Nature he regretted getting so acquainted with. What had begun as an innocent scrape was now starting to inflame rapidly, swelling his arm and creating curiously itchy patches on his skin. Maybe it was something worth running by the doctor after all. He'd try and remember to ring him this afternoon, just as long as everything stayed under wraps. There was nothing worse than snooping journalists hovering over the Luthors, ready to pounce on an embarrassing story. It always boiled down to the same thing, the hope of bribing Lex for money to keep the story quiet.

Thumbing through the obituaries to see if there were any flowers he should be sending, Lex started to notice the throbbing starting in his arm again. He could almost feel the blood pumping steadily through his arteries, pulsating to the beat of his heart. At the same time it was both fascinating and revulsing so Lex tentatively unbuttoned his shirt cuff and rolled the sleeve up to his elbow. The skin was an angry crimson colour but now Lex could see tiny black dots peppering the skin and, as he looked closer, it was clear that they were embedding themselves in the tender flesh. Pressing one thumb against the skin of his forearm, Lex dug at one of the fragments with his finger, trying to extract it from beneath his epidermis. Frowning, he leaned closer and examined the tiny black seed now lying in the palm of his hand. If he wasn't mistaken, it looked like some kind of spore.

"Hi, Lex!"

Lex barely needed to turn in his chair to verify the owner of that voice. Regardless of the teenager's mood, Lex could always identify Clark Kent. There was a generous overtone of naïve interest coupled with a note of optimism. Although, today that second factor was somewhat diminished. There was definitely something on the kid's mind. Quickly pulling his shirt sleeve back down, he made an attempt at casual. "Clark. Take a seat."

Clark appeared in front of Lex, digging his hands further into his pockets. "I just came to drop some supplies off. I didn't really want to bother you, just say hi."

Lex gestured to the spare chair he had set out in anticipation of a visitor. If there was one thing a millionaire could guarantee it was that money could buy all the luxuries in the world but it could never buy peace and quiet. "I was just enjoying a rare moment of serenity out here. It's amazing how easily one forgets some of the beauty that surrounds us."

Clark gave him an unconvinced smile of acknowledgement but remained hovering over his friend. Lex looked him steadily in the eye. "What's the matter, Clark? You look like you're about to bolt."

"No, I just...I just wouldn't want to disturb you."

Lex chuckled, "Clark, believe me, you'd know if you were disturbing me. Come on, tell me what's going on in the real world of Smallville?"

Clark finally sat down in the wicker chair. "You know all that advice you kept giving me about dealing with Lana? Well, I'd just like to say for the record that it's a lot easier said than done."

Lex nodded, knowingly. This was going to be a big brother conversation. "Did she turn you down?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean? Either she did or she didn't, Clark. There's no in between."

Clark gave him a lopsided smile. "Oh, there is when you're me." He sighed before launching into the complete recount of last night's conversation with Ms. Lang. Lex waited until he had finished before saying a word.

"Well, Clark, it sounds to me like Lana's morals are as admirable as yours. You don't want to muscle in on the quarterback's girl behind his back and she doesn't want to cheat on him behind his back either. It sounds to me like both of you would be together if it weren't for you and Lana's concern for Whitney."

Clark's brow furrowed. "So you think I should just go for it? Ask Lana out straight."

Lex folded the newspaper purposefully and laid it on the table beside him. "Well, you know me, I always take the bull by the horns, regardless of the consequences. But it sounds to me like the ball's in Lana's court now. She's the only one who can push Whitney out of the picture. You've made a play for her, she knows it even if she won't admit it yet. Lana is a good girl, she wouldn't respect you for playing rough. I think she likes a man with manners and a heart of gold. You've got that Clark. I guess now the question is how much does she want it?"

Clark nodded, solemnly. "Great. I feel better already. Thanks, Lex." His voice dripped with sarcasm and Lex couldn't help laughing at his young friend's adolescent love problems. How the pair had become friends still seemed a mystery sometimes. If Clark were handed the Luthor empire, he'd lose every penny in a bid to retain every man's good will. "Just give it time, Clark. Your moment will come, and when it does, you'll know."

END OF CHAPTER 6

Hope you liked it. I promise I'll speed things along soon. I'm notorious for setting situations up & trying to keep things flowing with all the characters, but I hope you'll hang in there for the good stuff! I promise it WILL come!!

Please, please, please review or I'll hit Lex over the head in the next chapter.


	7. Bonfire Night

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra 

See Part One for all notes & disclaimers.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologise for the shortness of the last chapter. I didn't realise how short it actually was until after I uploaded it. I suppose I just didn't want to lose my fabulous audience! Also, I had to change the title because I completely ditched the original plot so now there isn't any particularly devious lying!  
I hope this part won't disappoint. As always, please, please, please review!

CHAPTER 7 : BONFIRE NIGHT

The small town in the Tornado Valley felt electric with party vibes that evening. Every street seemed to be filled with the youth of Smallville laughing and hugging, full of good will. Parties came and went but there was something about Marty Chesterfield's annual bonfire night that captured people's imagination. Maybe it was because Marty had both an older and younger brother, meaning the whole spectrum of high school kids could legitimately go and fraternise with the people they shouldn't normally be seen dead with. It was an evening when people's inhibitions seemed to fall away, you could do anything down in Marty's west field and feel secure in the knowledge that it would all be forgotten the next day.

Chloe had been looking forward to it as much as her classmates and had duly run a front page article to advertise the fact that it was going to be a party unlike any other - except perhaps last year's! Marty's dad was friends with the local sheriff and must be owed a few favours because the cops turned a blind eye to the teenage antics that Marty's party inevitably brought.

Pete was picking Chloe up at seven. It was quarter to seven and the blonde reporter was still standing in the front of her bedroom mirror, weighing up the consequences of wearing her plunge neck sequinned black top. Sure, it was risque, but was that what she wanted? Would it give Pete mixed signals? She'd already got wind of Clark's plans to take Lana to the bonfire while Whitney was away so there was no chance of his eye wandering towards Chloe's lusty outfit. Frowning at her reflection, she slipped it off over her head. Given her luck in love, some jock would probably throw French fries down her cleavage or make some dumb comment about how hard she was trying.

Chloe had already decided to wear her new trousers. Only Clark and Lex had seen her in them and since one wasn't going to be there and the other might as well not be, it wouldn't be the cardinal fashion sin she had predicted. Maybe she should go for a simple top to carry them off, quietly sexy. Yes, that was the way to go.

Fifteen minutes later, she had put the finishing touches to her hair and make up as Pete Ross rang the doorbell. She raced to the door before either parent could catch her and throw the curfew book at her. "Bye, folks!" she called, not bothering to wait for acknowledgement.

Linking her arm through her friend's, Chloe steered Pete towards the garden gate. "You're looking pretty spiffy tonight, Pete. Trying to impress me?"

Pete laughed, looking her up and down. "Looks like we're both scrubbing up pretty good tonight. I did warm you Clark's going with Lana, right?"

Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeees. Come on, Pete, Clark's not the only guy in the world worth a bit of effort."

Pete gave her a quizzical gaze. "Really? You could have fooled me."

Chloe shrugged his comment off. "You know, just because my life isn't as perfect as Mr. Kent's doesn't mean it has to come to a standstill every time he isn't around."

Clark couldn't believe how much his life sucked. As if putting the first nail in his coffin by offering the word 'friend' to Lana, he had tried to dry his favourite sweater straight from the washing machine with a little heat vision. Instead of hot steam, he had only succeeded in burning small holes in the fabric. This night had started out as something to look forward to in the uneventful world of Lowell County, but it was rapidly degenerating into a pretty miserable occasion.

"Clark? Shouldn't you be going?" Martha Kent enquired, popping her head around the door of her son's bedroom. Her eyes widened into saucers of dismay as she caught sight of the abused sweatshirt resting in peace on the bed. "Clark?! What did you do?"

The teenager sheepishly grabbed it and hid it behind a pillow. "I was just...trying to dry it."

Martha cocked her head in a knowing stance. "Well, I think we can safely rule that out as one of your super talents. What are you going to wear? You can't go like that?"

Clark looked down at the cotton T-shirt he was wearing. "I liked that top. Red's my colour, mom. I wanted to look good..."

Martha didn't need that sentence finished. "Lana will think you look good no matter what you wear, honey."

"I guess it doesn't matter now anyway. Not when we're just good friends." He watched ruefully as his mother rummaged through his cupboard and produced a blue sweater in a similar style to his favourite. "There. This looks great on you." Clark pulled the sweater over his head and examined himself briefly in the mirror. "Thanks, mom," he mumbled. "I'd better go. Don't wait up."

Lana had finished her dilemma over what to wear that evening hours before Clark arrived to pick her up. In fact, she had barely needed to think about it. She would need to wear something warm because even the summer nights in Kansas could bring goose bumps to her arms. She had chosen a simple T-shirt covered with a moss green cable knit jumper, its high neck just touching glossy raven locks which she had coiled into Leia-style buns on either side of her head.

The whole effect was just casual enough not to startle Clark or give him the wrong idea but subtly attractive to make Lana feel a bit special. Her heart and mind were torn between loyalty to Whitney after everything he had been through and the underlying urges to kiss Clark.

"Lana, Clark's here!" Lana could hear the squeak of the screen door as Nell opened it and Clark's low voice making casual conversation downstairs. Quickly descending to meet him, Lana felt her breath catch a little in her throat. Clark's hair was ruffled from the cool breeze outside and his cheeks were flushed with colour, his blue eyes bright with excitement. If he were her boyfriend, Lana couldn't feel prouder. But he wasn't. He wouldn't be.

"Hi, Clark," she attempted to sound careless even though she could feel the heat of his stare on her as she reached the bottom step. "I won't be back too late, Nell."

Clark interposed, "I'll take good care of her."

"I know you will, Clark. You guys have a great time. No alcohol." Nell's face drew into lines of severity and Lana knew better than to defy her.

The pair made their way out to Clark's truck where he opened the passenger door for her. "You look really nice tonight, Lana." Clark tried to sound sincere without too much exaggeration; he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable before the evening had even begun.

"Thanks, Clark. So do you." Lana's glassy blue eyes searched his for a moment as if seeking out some deeper meaning. Clark could smell the soft scent of her perfume wafting to his nostrils on the wind. Her skin looked so soft and perfect, like blemish-less porcelain. He would have given up his powers in an instant just for the chance to touch that cheek, to feel her reciprocate.

Catching himself, Clark scrambled into the driver's seat and fired up the ignition.

Even though conversation had been stilted to start with, Clark was really starting to enjoy chatting to Lana on the journey to Marty's place. Subject matter had ranged from average school stuff to surrogate parent trouble to taking orders at the Talon. It seemed so natural to be talking like two untroubled teens enjoying a night out together. Okay, so it was clear the relationship wasn't going anywhere, but Clark's sombre mood had well and truly lifted by the time he drew the truck to a halt.

"Hey, there's Pete and Chloe!" Lana exclaimed, pointing through the windshield. Clark craned his neck to see them and then sounded the horn loudly. Chloe's blonde hair whipped round and she caught sight of him. Pete waved back. Clark slid out of his seat and jogged round the back of the truck to open Lana's door. She may not be his girlfriend but he could still act like a gentleman.

Chloe and Pete sidled up to the pair and Pete grinned, pointing to the truck. "I guess this means you've already decided you're not drinking tonight, pal."

Clark looked a little taken aback and glanced down the line of vehicles near his own. "I'm not the only one!" He didn't mean to sound so defensive and caught the girls' smirks at his gullibility.

Chloe reminded him, "These are strictly no alcohol premises, Clark. This year Marty's eldest brother has taken his party elsewhere so they can knock back a few beers without getting any minors involved."

Lana pulled a sorrowful face, "Damn, I was looking forward to a nice bit of eye candy tonight. I always thought Daniel Zimmerman was a bit of a heartbreaker." Clark and Pete exchanged mortified looks; they'd have a hard time competing with college studs, no matter how cool they acted.

Pete interjected as the girls giggled, "Hey, are we invisible tonight? Don't we match up to expectations?" There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it but Clark couldn't help scrutinising Lana's smiling face to see her reaction. He knew she was attracted to him in some way, but would she rather have Daniel Zimmerman over him?

Lana looped an arm through his, nonchalantly. "How could I turn down such an impeccable gentleman. Clark has collected me from home, driven me here, entertained me all the way and is even willing to forego his chances to find himself a hot date in the name of charity." She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Clark. It's funny, whenever Whitney lets me down, you're always there to make things right again."

Clark didn't know quite how to react to that statement so he just smiled in appreciation. True, he liked to see himself as a hero, but not to be Whitney Fordman's hero. Maybe if he didn't step in and help Lana forget how her jock boyfriend had let her down, she would have stronger reasons for breaking up with him.

They moved towards the bonfire burning in the next field. Clark shrugged off any more negative thoughts about the state of his love life. If he was honest with himself, he knew that he'd choose to be with Lana whether she was taken or not. He had her at his side, they were going to have a great night with all his friends around him. What more could a guy wish for?

"Hey guys! Glad you could make it. Food and drinks are in the barn and Dave's got some weird concoction brewing behind the haystacks. I wouldn't try any though, not unless you want your brain to explode." Marty hit Pete playfully on the arm and disappeared back into the throng.

Pete nodded in the direction of the haystack. "What do you say, Chloe? As chief reporter for The Torch, you can't pass up the opportunity to try Dave's poison."

Chloe glanced nervously over his shoulder. "I don't know, Pete. It sounds pretty noxious."

Ignoring her pleas, Pete dragged her towards the group of students lined up near the stacks, leaving Lana and Clark in their wake. Looking down at his date, Clark tentatively asked, "So, what do you think, Lana? Is it worth losing a few brain cells?"

She laughed, "Sure. Why not? If you don't do it when you're young, you'll only get arrested for it later."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "Lana! Don't let Nell hear you talking like that. She'd throw a fit." She punched him lightly on the arm then slid her own around his waist in a friendly gesture of affection. To Clark, it felt electric and his body reflexively tensed against her touch. It took all his energy to relax again with her so close and he was grateful for the jostling of the crowds that drew attention away from his nervous reactions.

Two hours later, after much eating dancing and general revelry, Clark and Lana collapsed onto a strategically placed hay bale at the edge of the field. From their vantage point, they could take in the buzz of activity without being drawn into it. Clark's head was still spinning a little from the intensity of Dave's brew and he was relieved to have a legitimate reason to sit down at last.

Lana's hair was starting to come loose of its coiled plaits, tendrils of dark hair twining around the golden skin of her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned heavily against her companion's shoulder. The weight of her small frame against Clark's was insignificant but it was all he could sense. The heat from their tired bodies filled the remaining space between them. Her warm breath tickled his neck and her lips parted invitingly, subtle colour imbuing the teenager with an urge to kiss her.

"Oh, I'm shattered," Lana mumbled, wearily. Clark wasn't sure whether to put an arm around her to hold her up but every action seemed to have a consequence he knew was out of his depth. He squirmed to adjust the position of his shoulder and Lana mistook the gesture as him pulling away. "No, let's just stay like this a bit longer. My head just throbs..." She feebly raised one hand to her head and tapped it drunkenly.

Clark fumbled to think of something to say. "Yeah, mine too. I think Dave's got a real recipe there. Some of the guys were paying hand over fist for the stuff." He looked down, dotingly, on the girl resting beside him. She looked so perfect, dishevelled in a healthy, vigorous sort of way with her cheeks flushed rosy with colour. Unable to resist, Clark gently reached out one hand to brush aside stray strands of hair from her face. Half believing her to be asleep, he was surprised when her blue eyes flew open, staring intently back into his. "Clark?"

"Yes," he replied, hoarsely, quickly returning his hand to his lap.

"Do you ever just wish things could just stay like this forever?"

"You mean like this, right now?" Clark vainly tried to interpret the signs correctly. Did she mean this moment or life in general? Lana nodded, mutely, her eyes trailing casually over the vibrant scene unfolding around them. Clark agreed, falteringly. "Sometimes, yes. I guess my life's in a pretty good place."

Lana murmured, "Things are so uncomplicated. When I think about my parents, about getting a job and dealing with a mortgage, all this seems so...enviable. And we've got it. I think that makes us pretty lucky, don't you?" Her gaze travelled to Clark's face, searching it for acknowledgement.

"Most of it's uncomplicated. But then there are other bits that always seem to confuse me." Lana forced herself into an upright position. Clark's words weren't lost on her. Ever since day one, their relationship had strained against the bonds trying to confine it to friendship. In her mind, she could alter the person in front of her to a blonde quarterback with piercing green eyes and a smile that could melt her heart. Whitney made her feel safe, feel wanted and needed. But then there was Clark. Clark was her hero, a hero with a heart of gold and blue eyes that contradicted his actions with their innocence. He was her saviour and Lana knew that when she was with him, she didn't need to worry about a thing. He loved her, she knew that.

In a state of blissful delirium, Lana felt herself lean forward into his hard, muscular body. Her fingers reached up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck and she could feel the soft exhalation of his breath against her cheek. His gaze travelled from her eyes to her full lips and Clark's body felt alive with passion and wantonness. Responding to the pressure of her body against his, he steered her chin closer to him until their lips touched in a moment of ecstasy. Suddenly, the whole world seemed to drop away from them until Clark felt like this moment made up the pinnacle of the world. The scent of her filled his nose, his hands wandered around her waist, holding her close to him. Dimly, he checked himself, crazed ardour replacing the rational recollection that he needed to mind his powers. An overwhelming desire to squeeze Lana harder overcame Clark. He wanted her so much, to bruise those tender lips with his kisses.

Lana gasped and pulled away abruptly. "Clark?" The name tumbled out of her mouth in a mixture of fear and confusion. They both knew the implications of what they had just done, the line they had just crossed. For a moment, they simply stared at one another, reluctant to move past the intensity of their emotions only to replace it with awkwardness and distance.

As if easing them into it, a branch cracked in the darkness of the tree line close to where they were sitting. A voice could be heard mumbling incoherently and, as he peered closer, Clark could make out the X-ray skeleton of a man shuffling through the foliage. And he was heading straight towards them.

End of Part 7

I tried to make this part a bit longer to make up for the last one. I wrote some Clark/Lana stuff in response to John Xavier's review request. I hope I did the deed to your satisfaction! But never fear, Lex-lovers, I haven't forgotten him!! As always, I'd really love to hear what you thought, what you'd like to see etc. I have got a fairly fixed plan for our Smallville inhabitants, but I'm happy to stretch the story to accommodate anything you'd rather see.

Thank you sooooo much to everyone who has reviewed for me. It makes me so excited & keeps me in the mood to write :)


	8. Wood For The Trees

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra 

See Part One for all notes & disclaimers.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers who I must apologise to for not getting this chapter out quicker. I've never been working on so many stories all at once & I've been waiting for my next Smallville mood to strike, but I forced it out (ok, that sounds worse than it is). I apologise for any spelling errors, I just wanted to get it up quickly & didn't want to wait to re-read it.  
NOTE TO SOME REVIEWERS:  
Tandy - There's no Chlex in here this chapter, but I promise it's on it's way soon.  
MitchPell - Thanks for all your lovely reviews. To be honest, I'm not really a Clark/Lana person either, I was just trying to appease that part of my readership & flesh the story out a bit. Hope this bit isn't too C/L for you, but I promise the tone is shifting next chapter.

CHAPTER 8 : WOOD FOR THE TREES

"Did you hear that?" Instead of clinging to Clark's arm, Lana roughly pulled herself away from him and wrapped her arms around herself.

Clark muttered, "Yeah, there's someone in the woods." He stood up and moved stealthily towards the tree line, carefully avoiding the dry twigs that would blow his cover. Homing in on the closest portion of the woods with his x-ray vision, Clark could clearly make out the shadowy figure. He was male and stooped as if old age had claimed him and the teenager could tell from the slow, deliberate movements that this person was no threat to him or his friends. He called out, "Hello? Who's there?"

The figure froze for a moment, face turned towards the direction of the voice. Then, he started to move closer to the edge of the field. Clark instinctively moved backwards to protect Lana from the stranger. Her hands gently fingered the arms of his shirt as she peeked out from behind him. "Who is it?" she asked, urgently.

"I don't know." Clark tried to keep his voice steady but he could feel a familiar headache burning into his consciousness, threatening to make him black out. He blinked hard, trying to dispel the agony that was spreading over his brain. Straining to keep his attention on the figure closing in on them, he dimly noted a tinge of colour around the man. Was it just his eyes or was that a green haze enveloping the man's skeleton? Then, the stabbing pain radiated from its core in his mind to make a path down his spine. Cold and mercurial it wended its way through Clark's veins and he looked down in horror at his hands. The veins were bulging with blood and poison, swelling the skin taut and threatening to burst. The pain was incredible and it was all Clark could do to murmur a response to Lana's frightened enquiry.

"Clark, what's wrong? You look terrible." Her eyes anxiously searched her companion's usually open and friendly face, now contorted and pale. Lana's attention shifted suddenly to the swaying man walking unsteadily towards them from the shadows. "Clark!" In her head, the call had been clear but, as it left her lips, it was nothing more than a strangled whisper.

The man moved closer and the red light of the bonfire lit up his features, the crevices of his face etched as dark lines. From his appearance, it was clear that he was some kind of tramp or hermit. The clothes had the pungent, musty smell of rain, moss and damp leaves. They had been lived in and unwashed for several months. His hair was shoulder length, hanging unkempt in greasy, matted locks and his skin carried the dirt of too long without a bath.

Lana grabbed Clark's arm and began to back away towards the lingering crowds across the field. Clark's head was pounding and he stumbled under her grip, falling to his knees. He balled his fists up in the earth, fighting to remain conscious. He couldn't see beyond the lights dancing in his eyes but he could feel the man getting closer by the increasing pain coursing through his body. Suddenly, strong hands gripped his shoulders and heaved him onto his back. The stench of rot assailed Clark's nostrils as the tramp's face came close to his.

"I know you, I know you...I do, we all know you! It's the scarlet, deep and bloody. You've got it, I can see through...I can see through!" The man's eyes glowed, maniacally, as his grip tightened on the front of Clark's shirt. "Don't let them know better, 'coz there's danger there. Danger you can't stop." The words tumbled meaninglessly from his lips and Clark fought weakly to push him off, but he was weak as a kitten and there was nothing he could do except pray that someone came to his rescue. Where was Lana? Her name formed on his lips but he barely had the breath to whisper it.

In answer to his prayers, the weight suddenly lifted from his body and the blinding pain criss-crossing his body eased a little. "Hey, get off him!" Male voices rallied around him and Clark struggled to regain his orientation. Like an angel at his side, Lana was kneeling next to him, her hair tickling his face. "Clark? Clark, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"Yes...I'm...better." What more could he say? He couldn't explain his reaction, just put it down to the weirdly concocted drinks being passed round the party. He mumbled his excuse and allowed her surprisingly strong arms to encircle his shoulders and help him to his feet. They felt like jelly and, for a moment, Clark wasn't sure he'd be able to stand unsupported.

Then, in a second, all the nauseous feelings left him and the teenager was completely recovered. That could only mean one thing. He looked urgently around the small circle of people gathered at the edge of the woods, "Where did he go?"

Lana's concerned gaze still scrutinised his face for signs of infirmity. "He took off into the woods. Come on. Let's get you home." Ignoring his protests, Lana drew him back in the direction of the truck and the Kent farm.

"Well, whatever it was, I can safely say your health is fine, Lex." Dr. Stowe, the Luthor physician, removed the stethoscope from Lex's bare chest. The young man quickly began pulling one arm of his shirt on. He hated visits to the doctor, probably as a result of so many years being prodded and poked during his youth. He had always looked somewhat sickly as a child then, when asthma had reared its ugly head, Lionel had made a point of regular check-ups. Just entering a hospital and smelling the strong odour of disinfectant was enough to bring the memories rolling back.

Lex looked sheepishly at Stowe, "So I'm kicking up a big fuss over nothing?"

The doctor laughed, heartily, and shook his head. "If there's one thing the Luthors can't be accused of, it's being hypochondriacs. I believe your rash existed but, as with so many of these things, they have their own ways of clearing up. I'm glad you came though, Lex. That check-up was long overdue. I was starting to think my messages weren't reaching your office."

Lex shrank a little under his disapproving, fatherly gaze. The words were not vocalised, but they both knew what he was really saying. He might be a billionaire but even billionaires can't evade the nagging guilt of missing a doctor's appointment. "I don't suppose the 'I've been busy' excuse would let me off."

"No, I don't think so. I know you too well, Lex, or perhaps I should start calling you Mr. Luthor." Lex frowned in confusion and the doctor continued. "You've been building quite an empire out here in Smallville. It has been noticed across the business world."

Lex buttoned the cuff of his shirt and smiled, "A man's got to step out of his father's shadow sometime. Smallville was a great opportunity for me."

Dr. Stowe made a few notes on Lex's record. He didn't want to reveal his own feelings about the Luthor family too much and had made a point to remain guarded about his personal opinions of their business habits. However, he had always maintained a good relationship with Lex as the family doctor. Stowe could vividly recall the times that Lionel had chided his son for cowardice when Lex had whinged about yet another needle in his arm or more tests. Lionel had been harsh, even brutal, in handling his son. Dr. Stowe had always been there to ease the discomfort for the young boy and to reassure him.

Now, to look at the man before him, was like facing a different person. Lex had changed, his father's efforts made fruitful over the years. It was a sight that sent a momentary shiver down the elderly man's spine. Lionel was a fierce leader, a shrewd businessman with little care for the weak around him. He had won many wars but he was not a good man. If he were a religious man, Luthor would have much penance to do, atonement for sins too numerous to remember. Was it possible that Lex could go the same way? The world would be a sadder place for it. This planet did not need another wrathful Luthor tyrant, it needed a man with respect for his fellow man.

Stowe glanced up at his patient, noting the drawn expression on Lex's face. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to save him from such a fate. He wanted to draw the goodness out of the shadows he could already see forming around the young man. Stowe opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. It was not his place. He was an employee of Luthorcorp and he would be out of line. Perhaps Lex was stronger than the doctor gave him credit for. "Well, I think we're done here, Lex."

Clark had experienced the worst day of school he could remember. Everyone had been at Marty's party, so that made the vibe good. Unfortunately, that also meant everyone had heard about Clark's little bout of nausea after trying the new 'juice' that was being fervently discussed. Sniggers met him behind every locker door, jibes in the lunch hall and even those people he had considered friends had proven to be below sticking up for him.

As he walked down the main street, his head was anywhere but on the faces he passed. He had never scrutinised the pavement so closely in his life before. It was quite a revelation how many bits of chewing gum could be squashed into the tarmac. Still, the teenager's mind still found time to wander to the general mess his life had turned into since Saturday night. Pete, Chloe and the rest of the school thought he was a laughing stock, he had made a picnic of his relationship with Lana and, even if Whitney didn't find out, the incident with the boho in the woods had set off a whole new set of questions.

Glancing up from his path, Clark noticed Lex's car parked across the street. He scanned the pavement for a sign of his friend and noticed the young man crossing the road further up. "Lex!" he called, grateful to find a friend who might not have been listening to idle high school tattle.

Lex didn't so much as turn his head in Clark's direction and the teenager called out again. He watched as the older man stepped out directly into the path of an oncoming truck. "Lex! Look out!" Clark called. Lex did not stop, he barely even flinched as the vehicle hurtled towards him. Clark didn't need to think, he knew what he had to do. Speeding towards his friend, he pulled him back to the pavement. The truck beeped his horn angrily and continued on its way. Clark glanced furtively around the shoppers, checking that no one had seen him.

"Lex, are you okay?" Lex seemed somewhat dazed, an expression Clark had never seen crossing the unflappable man before. "Lex?"

Lex blinked hard, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Clark. To the teenager, it were as if he had no idea who he was or what he was doing. "Clark?" he asked, huskily. His eyes moved to the cars driving slowly up and down the road beside them. "Saving a man's life once again must surely get you extra credit." The tone in his voice was dry and Clark could tell he was trying to cover up his erroneous behaviour.

"Lex, you almost walked out into the centre of the traffic."

"I know." Lex rubbed two fingers against the bridge of his nose then shook his head. "I've had a lot on my mind." He knew it wasn't the best answer to throw Clark off but it would have to do.

"Anything I can help with?" Clark enquired, graciously.

Lex smiled. He should have seen that coming. "No, Clark, but thank you. It's business." He moved away from his friend, hoping it would be enough to show Clark he didn't want to talk without hurting his feelings.

"Lex, have you got a minute?" Clark had spurned and disputed Lex's advice on countless occasions, despite the older man's better judgement in several situations. Now, he was the hypocrite because he had never wanted to hear those homilies more. He desperately wanted to reassurance that his life would get back on track. He had talked to his parents about the incident with the tramp but, right now, Clark was more concerned about where he stood with Lana or his friends than the latest kryptonite infested freak.

Lex sighed inwardly and turned back to Clark. "Is it important?" He couldn't hide the bitter iciness to his voice but he wanted to be alone. He noticed the teenager's shoulders slump and Clark muttered, "No, I guess not. I'll catch up with you later?" he queried.

"Bye, Clark." Lex made no commitment. The near collision with the truck had left him more shaken than he cared to admit. He needed to get a grip on himself once more and he couldn't let anyone help him. Putting his keys in the ignition with one shaky hand, he headed back to the mansion and the sanctuary of his own thoughts. Ignoring the light-headedness he was beginning to experience, he put his foot down hard on the acceleration pedal and skidded out of Smallville centre.

* * *

Please, please look at that lovely little box down there that says 'Submit Review' & tell me something!! I'm sorry the Lex thing is slow coming but I got side-tracked with Clark there for a while. I promise Chlex lovers that there will be something between the two soon because it's a pairing I particularly like as well :). 


	9. All Change

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra

See Part One for disclaimers etc.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, a big thank you to my lovely reviewers, especially Polly for all your long analyses! I hope this is turning into a worthy birthday present. To A - I will keep the Clark/Lana situation going, but it's going to be secondary to the Lex-angst plot I'm working up to. Speaking of Lex, Tandy, IrisHart & other Chlexers, I hope this chapter delivers a bit of titillation for you!

I know this story is a bit long-winded but that seems to be the pattern of my writing - sorry :)!! Anyway, the real Lex stuff is coming up now. Give it two chapters for him to really get himself into trouble & the whole gang will be involved in helping him out (cue Lana/Clark tension & Chloe/Lex stuff). Thank you all for being so patient.

CHAPTER 9 : ALL CHANGE

Lex's fists collided with the punch bag, first a left hook then a right in rapid succession. It felt good to have an excuse to pound something every once in a while, usually when corporate goons weren't budging. He had never been the fit kid at school, always wheezing from asthma, and with his shock of red hair and privileged background, Lex had always been somewhat of an easy target. He had quickly learned to play to his strengths - using brains to make friends and enemies alike. Physical prowess wasn't something his father had ever particularly admired. Lionel did not consider brawn an acceptable substitute for brains and he didn't believe the two could go hand in hand. Either you flexed the muscle in your head or you flexed your biceps, there was no middle ground.

Lex supposed that lesson was one of the few confidence boosting aspects of his father's teachings. He was convinced Lionel enjoyed watching him fail in so many departments, it wouldn't have surprised the young man if Lionel had changed his opinion just to sink Lex even lower in his eyes.

Thrashing his troubles out with the punch bag or a long session in the gym was just enough invigoration to keep Lex feeling fit and ready to tackle the day ahead. If someone had asked him why he had suddenly felt the urge to go down to the underground gym at the mansion in the middle of the night, Lex wouldn't have been able to answer them. However, if that person had asked a psychiatrist, the answer would have been crystal clear. Lex was feeling foolish and perhaps even a little vexed by his appointment with Dr. Stowe.

As a child, he had suffered too much from frail health and, as an adult, the possibility of reverting to such inadequacy was more than Lex could bear. He did not want to admit that there could be anything wrong with him and pushing his body to it's limits was the only way to put his mind at rest. Challenging and pushing was the Luthor way. It was the only way to conquer one's fears, as Lionel had told him countless times.

So, two hours later, after ten laps of each stroke in the pool, a few miles on the treadmill, some weight pulling and boxing, fatigue finally caught up with the young billionaire. He was satisfied, though, that the routine was enough to clear his conscience. There was certainly nothing wrong with his fitness regime so Lex grabbed a towel and headed out to the pool once more to savour the cold bottle of spring water he retrieved from the fridge.

By the time he had pulled out a sun lounger from the pool hut, he was already feeling more energised again. Usually, after such a long and arduous workout, he relished an hour to kick back and relax, maybe close his eyes for a few moments and tune the world out. Instead, the icy water slipping down his throat only made him feel rejuvenated and almost ready for another session in the pool. Refusing to obey the strange urges of his body, Lex slung the towel onto the floor, lay back and closed his eyes. A short nap was what he needed, that's all.

"Wow, Chloe, that's great!" Clark flung his arms round his friend in a bear hug. For a moment he felt her tense in his arms, reminding him of the unrequited love which still lay between them. Settling back into friendship was going to be tough.

"Congratulations, Chloe. You really deserved that internship. The work you do on the Torch is so good." Lana's eyes shone with genuine delight at her friend's good fortune. That was the one of the aspects of Lana Lang which inspired Clark, her generosity both in word and deed. He wished his own thoughts weren't tainted with the vague relief that putting some distance between himself and the blonde reporter wouldn't help their strained relations when she returned to school in the fall.

Pete plonked himself down on the sofa beside Chloe and ran one arm round her shoulder, squeezing it. "You must be psyched. Guess they must know raw talent when they see it."

Chloe grinned, unable to contain her own excitement. The phone call had come early that morning before school and she had babbled for the entire bus journey. Now, happily housed in the Talon for a hard-earned mocha coffee and some highly valued chin-wagging with her favourite people, life couldn't be more perfect. "I still can't believe it," she smiled, "I'm actually going to spend my summer working on a real newspaper. School breaks up tomorrow and I've got the summer job of a lifetime."

"Yeah, someone's got a guardian angel on their side," Lana added. She didn't envy Chloe. Goodness knows the girl had worked hard enough to earn such a break but the prospect of the future months serving coffee at the Talon wasn't exactly high flying stuff for her; in fact it wasn't even interesting. With Whitney fighting for his country and Nell busy with her latest squeeze the summer wasn't shaping up to well for her.

Clark had offered to take her camping for a weekend with Pete in tow and the idea had sounded fantastic until Saturday's debacle. From the moment their lips had touched, Lana had known it could only end badly. Part of her wanted Clark, of course it did, but a larger part knew how much she valued him as a friend. She didn't want to jeopardise that any more than he did and, if the truth be told, the teenager was enjoying being single for a while. With a boyfriend like Whitney there were always compromises - football games and nights when he'd go out with the guys in place of a date with her. She wasn't saying Clark would be the same but it was nice not to have to even contemplate it.

Her gaze wandered to the dark-haired teenager across the table, the way his blue eyes widened with animation as he listened to Chloe regaling them with stories. To an outsider, Clark Kent must seem the greatest catch in Smallville, maybe even Kansas. Tall, athletic, handsome, caring, fairly academic and the saviour of countless unfortunate victims in the small Tornado Valley town. But if those same outsiders knew the secrets he hid, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to embrace him. It wasn't the big secrets or lies, it was the small untruths, the omission of facts or avoidance of confrontation about situations that irked Lana. Maybe one day he would let her in the way she had him. "I'd better get back to work, guys. What can I get you?"

Pete went for his usual americano and Clark couldn't resist the creamy hot chocolate Lana made so well. Chloe grabbed the menu. "Tonight, I'm celebrating, so I'm going for something a bit special. I'll have one of those..." she said, pointing to a bizarre coffee concoction with hazelnut syrup and chocolate sprinklings on top, "...and a slice of the apple pie looks great."

Clark sat back in his chair, "Hey, you don't have to pay for pie, Chloe. My mom would make you one all of your very own."

"Is that so? Well, I guess I'll just have to stop by the Kent place later and see if I can scrounge a celebratory pie."

Lana disappeared off to prepare the drinks, casting a wistful glance back in the direction of the merry group. Busying herself with espresso machine, she took the moment of calm to survey Clark's features. She had done it countless times in her own head since Saturday night, relived the way he had leaned in to kiss her. She could still feel the touch of his skin against hers, inhale the clean smell of after shave and fresh straw. If only things weren't the way they were, if only the Clark Kent who wanted her so badly was the same Clark Kent she wanted for herself.

"A penny for them?" The husky voice was instantly recognisable and pulled Lana from her reverie in embarrassment. Lex Luthor smiled innocently at her. She could tell from the way his eyes followed her gaze to where her friends were sitting that he knew she'd been watching Clark. Yet, with his usual diplomacy, he made no mention of it.

She smiled in discomfiture and pulled her hair back behind her ears, unconsciously. "It's nothing, just tired I guess."

Lex leaned forward on the counter, watching her carefully as she fumbled with the coffee beans. "School's out for summer tomorrow, isn't it? You must be looking forward to a break."

Lana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, except that school will just be replaced with shifts in this place."

Lex's brow furrowed slightly. "Lana, balancing life and work is a precarious act but it's important to give yourself some freedom."

"This from a Luthor? Are you telling me that you and your father got to such an elevated position through play as well as work."

Lex smiled, thoughtfully. "Touche. But don't forget you're only sixteen, Lana. A better life won't come to you behind a coffee shop counter but it's not exactly like time's running out on you."

Lana nodded, comprehending his words only too well. If she didn't want to be a waitress for the rest of her life and be stuck in Smallville as so many citizens had been before, then she'd better heed his advice. Sometimes Lex's brutal honesty was disarming but she appreciated his frankness if not for the dissatisfaction it swelled in her heart then for hearing a voice that cut through the small town mentality Smallville was prone to generating. "Point taken. What can I get you?"

Clark glanced up from Chloe's glowing face to the figure standing at the counter with Lana. In his long coat, Lex cut a fine figure as he picked up a cardboard coffee cup and strolled over to the table. "I hear congratulations are in order, Miss Sullivan."

Chloe wished she could wipe the ridiculous grin off her face but it just wasn't budging. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor," she replied, returning the formality. She was about to thank him as well for his words of encouragement that night at the mansion but thought better of it. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate to mention a late night trip to Lex's in front of all her friends. The fact that she hadn't mentioned it before would only fuel rumours that she was hiding things from them. In a way she felt like she was.

Chloe knew she was just a school girl in Lex's eyes, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, but it made her feel special knowing of important executives he spoke to every day and the fact that a sixteen year old could still engage him in conversation just as well. In her head, she could still daydream that there was something desirable in Chloe Sullivan, even to a man who could have any woman he liked. She added with a wry smile, "Besides, you might not be congratulating me so heartily if you knew how many sample articles featured your good self in them."

Lex arched a suspicious eyebrow. "Just don't get the Metropolis Globe onto me as well. The Torch is one thing but I don't think even I could cope with a flock of city journalists without squirming." Of course, that was a lie, but he could tell Chloe understood he was teasing.

She laughed, "I'll try to keep the wolves at bay, but I don't know, Lex. You have a strange way of getting involved with the weird and wacky headline stories these days."

He chose to ignore that comment. It was true that he had been involved in his fair share of public ordeals in the past. Even dismissing his unruly behaviour in Metropolis as a teenager, Smallville had thrown up its fair share of anomalies - invisible boys, car crashes, shape shifters posing as him to rob banks... The list was getting pretty long and before long it wouldn't even be funny thinking about how many times he featured on Chloe's 'Wall of Weird'. It didn't exactly make him or LuthorCorp look good.

Lex turned his attention to Clark, "Clark, did you still want to bend my ear about something?"

Clark frowned, trying to recall what his companion was referring to. "Oh, no, that was nothing. Just...nothing." Mentioning his love life issues in front of Chloe and Pete was not a clever move.

"Fine. Well, you guys have a good evening." Lex was subtle enough to take the hint and headed for the door.

The midsummer warmth of a blood red sun melted like butter over the Kent farmstead. Evening was drawing on, Martha's favourite time of day. The hard labour was done and the world was winding down. She looked forward to snuggling up to her husband out on the porch swing, a hot cup of coffee in her hand and the smell of straw lingering on his shirt as she leaned against his chest. Tonight was going to be one of those evenings when the stars were bright in the sky and everything was perfect.

"Here you go, sweetheart." Martha handed Jonathan a mug of freshly ground coffee and sat down beside him. She stared out across the fields and sighed contentedly.

Jonathan draped a strong arm around her shoulders. "I know what you're thinking about," he murmured in her ear as he kissed the top of her head.

"Mmmm," she replied. Martha didn't need to say any more. Whenever she had the chance to take stock of her life, she thanked the Lord for the miracle he had sent her. A son so perfect she couldn't have envisaged better.

"And there he is," Jonathan smiled, tilting his head in the direction of their dark-haired son scaling the porch steps. Clark approached them, his boots clonking on the wooden boards. "You're home late." Jonathan heard Clark's sigh but couldn't help the instinctively protective paternal tone in his voice. It was only natural to be concerned on a school night, even if the summer holidays started the next day.

"Yeah, sorry," was all the teenager mustered up in response.

"How was Chloe's celebration?" Martha enquired.

"It was nice. It was good to see her happy." Clark leaned leisurely against the porch banisters and followed his parents' gaze out over their property stretching into the distance. "Listen, mom, dad, I don't want you to freak or anything but..." He paused a little too long and Martha swooped on him, her eyes wide with fear.

"Clark, what is it? You can tell us." Her urgent voice wasn't exactly the epitome of reassurance but Clark could already imagine the scenario in her head.

"What did you do?" Jonathan stabbed.

"Dad, mom, calm down. I didn't do anything! There's just...well, I didn't exactly tell you the whole story about the tramp the other night. There was something else."

"Something else?" Martha queried, trying hard to steady the concern in her voice.

"I got really weak, like I do around kryptonite." His parents sat quietly for a moment, weighing up what that knowledge implied. Clark continued, "But the thing is, he's still out there..."

"No, Clark. I don't want you going out in those woods after him." Martha's voice was severe and desperate to exert some kind of authority. It made no difference that her son could handle himself better than a wrestler, she worried like any other mother about him getting hurt.

To her relief, Jonathan backed her up. "Your mother's right, Clark. The woods are dangerous and even if you do find this man, unless you're going to encase yourself in lead, you'll be defenceless."

"So what are you suggesting I do?" Clark retorted. "Come on, you've seen the papers - full of all the weird side effects people have suffered due to kryptonite exposure. None of them are good. This man threw me to the ground and he kept looking at Lana! What if he follows her or assaults someone? I couldn't live with myself. Mom, Dad, I'm the only one who can see the kryptonite in his veins, the only person who can see the lethal potential in this guy. I've got to do something!"

Their son's agitation was obvious and the Kents knew that he was right. Just a moment's worried exchange was all they needed to agree. Jonathan sighed wearily, "Fine, but I'm coming with you. We'll track this man together, do you hear?" Clark opened his mouth to protest but found himself thwarted. "No arguments, son. You know you can't bring him in alone."

The impressive Scottish mansion appeared out of the night gloom like a scene directly from a Gothic novel. The imposing wrought iron gates were full of forbidding as Chloe drew up to the side of the driveway. She braced herself as she rang the intercom buzzer and waited for an answer. Wondering, too late, if it was past considerate visiting hours, she glanced anxiously at her watch. Unless Lex Luthor had suddenly started bedding down at school kid hours, he should still be up and about. Besides, there were plenty of lights glowing in the countless stained glass windows.

"Hello?" The voice was unfamiliar, distorted through the tinny intercom system.

Chloe leaned close to the receiver. "My name's Chloe Sullivan. I'm a friend of Lex's." She hoped that last part wouldn't be considered too much of an elaboration on the truth. After all, she had only interviewed him professionally a few times for the Torch but since then, she had shared a few private conversations with him - near the woods and at his mansion. The word 'friend' might be taking a liberty but hopefully Lex would let it slip.

To her relief, the gate whirred open and Chloe stepped inside the grounds, slowly picking her way up the path to the front door. The door opened just as she raised her hand to knock and a man, whose stuffy garb implied he was the butler, showed her into the hallway. It never failed to impress. The oak panelled walls, coats of arms and antique furniture was a perfect means of intimidating any potential Luthor rivals or business associates. Everything about the castle reeked of the hard-edged businessman - astute, contained, not flamboyant but expensively tasteful.

The man showed her quickly into Lex's study. "Mr. Luthor will be with you shortly. Make yourself comfortable." Chloe smiled graciously and, as soon as the door was closed, took the rare opportunity to dissect the few personal effects scattered around the room. Most of the furniture and frivolities were not even Lex's but artefacts brought with the castle or dusted off from the attic. The range of books around the room was impressive but did not tell Chloe anything more than she already knew about Lex from his occasional lectures - some history, Greek mythology and philosophy.

As her eye travelled along the shelf, Chloe caught sight of a well-worn book which had probably seen several generations of fingers thumbing through its pages. She pulled it out for a closer look, turning to the frontispiece for a date. Her eyes widened - 'The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner' by James Hogg, 1824. The only place she'd be likely to see such an relic would be in a museum and, even then, behind glass where sticky fingers could not spoil it.

"A first edition." Chloe whirled at the sound of Lex's husky voice in her ear.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Not at all. It's one of my favourites." Lex took the book from her and scanned the first few pages, a small smile crossing his lips as he cursively read words he had not seen in so long.

Chloe edged forward, looking from Lex to the book he cradled like a child. "One of the relics from your dad's attic?"

Lex shook his head, his gaze still lingering on a passage in the book. "From my private collection actually. My father never appreciated Gothic literature very much. He considered it too melodramatic for his taste." Lex glanced up at Chloe's interested face. "Have you read it?"

"No. I've never heard of it actually. Would I like it?"

Lex placed the book sentimentally on the desk and leaned against the edge. "It's about a man who believed his religious beliefs had already saved him from Hell, that he would join the kingdom of Heaven regardless of the sins he committed. So, a stranger arrived and prompted the man to commit a series of horrifying crimes including murdering his half-brother, mother, a girl and a preacher, all under the supposed auspices of divine justice. Eventually, he started to believe that the then-deceased stranger was in fact the Devil and exhumed his body. Upon examination, he found that the skull had two horn-like protuberances." Lex's steady blue eyes pierced Chloe's in search for the first response.

She swallowed dryly. "He killed his own half-brother and mother and thought he was beyond reprimand? That sounds awful."

Lex smiled sadly. Everyone's response to the novel were the same. "Perhaps. Some men walk a darker path than we could ever understand."

Chloe shook her head. Given a neutral subject to discuss, she felt more secure and on even ground. "I think that's a convenient excuse for someone's behaviour. No one falls into darkness without first leaning towards it, rationalising it."

Lex nodded, mutely. Chloe was quite unlike her other friends. She had a hard, determined edge which he found very appealing. Both Clark and Lana were almost too perfect in their perspectives on life, too willing to find a reason to forgive and make the world aright. He knew otherwise, he knew that not everyone can be saved and that some people's mistakes were unforgivable. Chloe did, too. Beneath her sunny demeanour, there was a steeliness worthy of any Luthor employee. "Would you like to borrow it?" he asked, holding the book out to her.

Chloe regarded it slyly, as if she expected it to be poisonous. "I'm not sure. From what I hear so far, it would just make me really angry."

Lex laughed. "Please don't take my potted synopsis as a good guide. Perhaps we could debate the path of right and wrong in more detail then."

Was that he flirting with her? Chloe could hardly entertain the idea for long but his offer certainly implied that he would welcome seeing her again. She might be a deluded school girl, but she wasn't turning down the chance to spend more time with Lex Luthor, regardless of how uncomfortable he made her feel sometimes. "Sure. I guess I could give it the benefit of the doubt." She slipped the book in her bag and turned back to her host.

"Lex, I actually came here because there was something I felt I had to ask."

Lex raised his eyebrows with interest. "Oh?"

Chloe wrung her hands, painfully aware of how unappreciative this would sound. Damn, why did she always have to come and see him on negative missions? "I know this is going to sound awful but I just have to ask..."

Lex finished the sentence for her. "No, you got it all on your own."

Chloe frowned, "Excuse me?"

"Wasn't that what you were going to ask me? If I did pull any strings to get you that job after all? The answer is no, I didn't. You got it all on your own merit, Chloe. You should be proud."

Chloe felt herself blush under his close examination. Was she that transparent? "Thank you. I just...I guess... That was pretty rude of me, Lex. I'm sorry."

He batted a hand. "Forget about it. You lack confidence in your own ability, Chloe. Don't undervalue the talent you have."

She shifted uncomfortably. It was bad enough that she had come into his house bearing such suspicion but to be complimented in return was like twisting the knife in her misgiving heart. "Thank you," she murmured, unwilling to revel in his kind words. "Well, I'd better not keep you."

"Good luck in Metropolis, Chloe." Lex escorted her to the front door in true gentlemanly style and Chloe couldn't help but let her mind wander into the fantasy world where he might take her in his arms and kiss her. Maybe some time away from Smallville was a good device to keep her wild imagination at bay. In small towns there was always a danger of letting tiny parts of one's life overgrow the space they deserve. Lex was rapidly becoming the centre of her daydreams and Chloe couldn't let him damage her cynical journalistic mind any further.

"Thank you, Lex." She quickly darted down the path, aware of his sharp eyes boring into her back as the gates swung closed behind her.

* * *

As always, please, please, please, please, please review. It doesn't have to be anything big, just one word would suffice as to whether you like it or not. The only reason for posting it anywhere other than my own hard drive is to share it with all you lovely people!! 


	10. Intruder Alert

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE

By Allegra

See Part One for disclaimers etc.

Author's Note : After what can only be described as a writer's binge, I have shoved the story off in the direction of Lex & kick-started my Smallville urges again. I really hope you all like it & please, please, please review! Just a little one :)

CHAPTER 10 : INTRUDER ALERT

Clark blessed the day he had discovered his x-ray vision. The moon had slid behind some ominous clouds which really shouldn't have been there, considering the beautiful summer's day Smallville had seen. He heard his father curse under his breath for the tenth time that minute as his foot caught in yet another root or his skull slammed into a low hanging branch. The torch had packed up about five minutes walk into the undergrowth of the Medora Woods and even the resourceful Jonathan Kent hadn't expected to need back-up batteries so soon after purchase. Besides the curses and expletives leaving his lips, he was engaged in complaining profusely about being ripped off on the price of good batteries. The offending articles had been bought on a rare trip to Metropolis for imported tractor parts and Jonathan was ever ready to pour on the anger wherever large cities were concerned. He had lectured Clark on countless occasions about the perils of entering the ruthless and dishonest world of corporate business. "Everyone's eyes are filled with little dollar signs, son. All they care about is money and how much they can get before someone notices they're being ripped off."

Usually, Clark would have humoured his father's rant good-naturedly. However, tonight there were more pressing problems at hand, ones which he needed to be ready to face head-on. "Dad!" he snapped. "Do you mind? We're supposed to be tracking this guy, not publicising our presence!"

If he had been able to make out the expression on his father's face clearly, it would have shown sheepish embarrassment at being caught so unprofessionally. "Sorry, son."

The pair picked their way carefully through the dense thickets. The forest floor was thick with pine needles and dead leaves, tangled roots looping randomly in preparation to upturn an unobservant walker. The trek took them deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods and Clark was beginning to wonder if they would step out the other side before they found any sign of human life. He hadn't even felt a moment's twinge of the weakness he experienced when near kryptonite and, given the circumstances, that irritated him.

Suddenly, a movement caught Clark's eye in the brush ahead of them. Whatever it was had been partially hidden by the tree it was hiding behind. Clark hissed at his father to be quiet and the two men stood silently as the teenager allowed his x-ray vision to bring the world ahead of him sharply into inverted focus. Each solid object began to sharpen in his mind, the edges no longer blurred by shadow but brought into vivid white neon light. Then, as the new images settled into place, shades of grey demarcated the frailer natural elements such as grass and leaves and Clark was able to see right into the heart of the trees around them. He could see the visceral mechanics of Mother Nature, the pulsing juices in the tree stems, the fragile skeletons of tiny creatures foraging in the undergrowth.

At first, he wondered if perhaps he was mistaken and that it was nothing more than a busy hedgehog snuffling. Then, Clark caught sight of an elbow joint protruding from behind a large tree to the left side of his vision. There really was somebody there. With one motion of his hand, he kept his father behind him and crept stealthily towards the figure, gradually bringing more and more of the male skeleton into view. As he did so, it was clear the stranger could not be the tramp they were after. There was no tinge of green inside him at all and Clark felt as strong as ever.

Confident that he could take on whoever might be stalking them, he halted. "Who's there? Come out."

Jonathan moved up behind him, the dead torch suddenly raised in preparation for use as a rather lethal truncheon. He narrowed his eyes into the darkness, slowly making out the shape of a young man, at least a head smaller than himself. Then, the person moved closer and whispered, "Clark? Is that you?"

Clark started in surprise. "Pete? What are you doing out here?" He caught his friend's arm and steered him closer to them from where he was obviously floundering. Pete switched on his own flashlight and the glare made Clark and Jonathan squint until they became accustomed to the bright beam. The older Kent was quick to step into parent mode once more. "Pete, it's dangerous out here. What on earth possessed you to come out into the woods so late?"

Pete grinned, toothily. "I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Kent." Jonathan's grimly paternal expression quickly quelled his cockiness. "Actually, it's an assignment. Chloe's roped me in to follow all the breaking stories over the summer for the first Fall edition of the Torch. Now that she's a legitimate reporter with the Metropolis Globe, she's got to delegate. Anyway, she told me the stories right at the beginning of the summer always get forgotten and she seemed pretty interested in that tramp that attacked you the other night, Clark." He spoke the last sentence with a wicked grin on his face which quickly descended into sniggers of derision.

Clark rolled his eyes. He was never going to live that evening down. "Yeah, yea, just get it out, Pete."

Pete thumped his arm. "Sorry, Clark, but if you'd seen it from our point of view, you'd be laughing pretty hard, too."

Jonathan cleared his throat, firmly. "Well, I think Miss Sullivan's taken her dedication to her work a bit too far this time. Entering the woods alone in the middle of the night in search of a madman is a bit out of a high school paper's jurisdiction, don't you think?"

Pete shrugged. He didn't like being there any more than Jonathan did, but Chloe could be really persuasive, in fact, dragonian sprang to mind. Mr. Kent glanced at Clark and sighed, "Well, I guess you'd better stick with us for now, Pete. You've got a torch and we stand a better chance of avoiding danger if we stay together. All right?"

Pete didn't argue. He had no qualms about joining forces with the Kents. After all, he had even phoned Clark that evening in a feeble attempt to rope him into chasing this story with him. Little had he known that his best buddy was roaming the same forest already. Letting Clark take the lead with the torch, Jonathan and Pete followed the teenager deeper into the heart of the woods.

Lana Lang sank down onto her head and tugged futilely at her boots. The shift at the Talon had seemed interminable and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. Perhaps it was the end of term stress relief. She never felt tired during the term but, subconsciously, her body must have been waiting for the last day before it completely shut down. Every other summer, that had been fine, but not anymore. Lana was trying to earn her keep and get some job experience which meant copious waitressing shifts throughout the holidays.

She lay back on the bed for a moment, closing her eyes. She knew she ought to wash the makeup from her face and get changed into her pyjamas but her body just wouldn't budge. It had worked hard enough for one night. Nell had phoned her mid-shift to say she was staying late at the boutique to work on the books with her accountant. That ruled out any lectures on looking after herself. A moment later, all coherent thought had left her and Lana was drifting into dreamless exhaustion. So deep was her slumber that she failed to hear the creak of footsteps on the porch roof outside her window. Neither did she hear those same footsteps stop and scrape her window sill before landing on soft carpet beside her bed.

Jonathan and Clark followed the strip of Medora Woods for what seemed like miles until the trio emerged from the foliage onto a swathe of farmland. Clark frowned, "I recognise this place."

Jonathan sighed, grimly. "That's because it's our land, Clark."

Pete laughed, "You mean, you didn't know your own farm bordered onto these woods, Clark? And how long have you lived here again?"

Jonathan scratched his head. "I knew it but, what with all those tree roots and a severe lack of light, I figured we were heading in the opposite direction. Well, it looks like this is the end of the line, guys. Maybe we'd be better trying this again in daylight. I mean, there's no good reason why this lunatic should keep to the darkness."

"I guess," said Clark, deflated at the lack of results. He had genuinely wanted some kind of closure. It was disconcerting to think another kryptonite freak was walking, unhindered, around Smallville. It wasn't just his own safety which was at risk but any innocent citizen in the town. Whatever these green rocks brought to their victims, it was never good.

Pete switched off the torch now that they were back in open space and asked, "Should we call it a night then? I'm beat."

"I think that's a good idea. Let's head on back to the house and I'll give you a ride home," Jonathan offered, his betraying his disappointment as clearly as Clark's.

They were halfway across the field in the direction of the lights of the Kent farm when a scream issued high and clear from the Potter house across the way. Clark breathed, "Lana!" Without hesitation, he started running towards her home where he could see the light from her room.

Jonathan noted the way his son held back from running full speed to keep his super powers from Pete. Turning to Clark's young friend, he pulled him in the direction of the farm, "Pete. Run to the house and call the police! Quickly, go!"

Pete nodded and ran on ahead without argument. Jonathan turned back to his son in time to see him break into a sprint which must have reached at least sixty miles an hour. Praying that Clark would get to Lana or Nell in time, he followed suit, concentrating on the uneven, fallow ground ahead of him.

Clark burst through the front door which had shown no mark of illegal entry and paused momentarily in the hallway. "Lana? Nell? Where are you?!"

"Clark!" Lana's frightened scream emanated from her bedroom and Clark raced up the stairs before bursting into her bedroom, afraid of what he might find there. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw - Lana pinned to her bed with the filthy body of the tramp from the woods pressed down onto her. The teenager made a move towards the bed but he could already feel the effects of the kryptonite taking hold.

Without warning, his legs gave way beneath him and Clark crumpled to the floor. His failing eyes lingered on the veins standing out on his hands and arms. Healthy red blood was replaced with painful green poison, draining him of strength and incapacitating him completely. He was powerless to help Lana even though her pleads for mercy penetrated his brain as clear as day. Clark clawed feebly at the carpet, trying to raise himself to his knees but to no avail. Every time, his body betrayed him and left him sprawling like a newborn. A strangled whisper escaped his lips, "Lana..."

Then, as in slow motion, Jonathan entered the room brandishing a rolling pin he had found in Nell's impeccable kitchen. It took only a cursive glance around the three figures in the room to know exactly what was taking place. Fearlessly, he strode across the room and swung the wooden utensil deftly down onto the crown of the man's head, sending him lolling lifelessly to the floor.

Lana jumped up as if she had been stung, her heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly and her hands trembling with residual fear. "Mr. Kent...thank you!" she stammered before falling into his open arms, tears flooding down her cheeks. Jonathan squeezed her tightly, letting her relax in the warmth and security of his grasp. "It's all right, Lana. Everything's going to be okay. Don't you worry."

He steered her gently towards the door, swiping a throw from the bed which he slung across her slender shoulders. Jonathan was truly concerned for her safety but he also needed to get Clark away from the kryptonite in that man's skeleton. If he could just get Lana downstairs without her seeing the state Clark was in, then that would save a hell of a lot of unwanted questions.

Fortunately, as they reached the foot of the staircase, Pete scrambled up the porch steps and stood catching his breath in the entrance hall. "The police are on their way," he gasped. "Lana, are you okay?" He took in her pale, shaken face and the way her fist tightened on Mr. Kent's lumberjack shirt.

Jonathan released his charge into Pete's arms. "Pete, can you see to Lana? Make her a cup of tea."

Pete nodded and guided the dark-haired girl into the kitchen where he sat her at the small table. "I guess coffee's a bad idea right now, huh?" He laughed, nervously, unsure of exactly how to behave around someone so traumatised. Lana's face was ashen and her eyes rested on items but they did not seem to see anything.

Pete busied himself with the kettle and finding his way around the wall-to-wall cupboards in search of herbal teas. Finally, he sat down opposite and presented his friend with a raspberry and elderflower tea which smelt appetising even to his unadventurous palate. He joked with her for a bit, trying to lessen the tension in the room but eventually the journalist Chloe had beaten into existence began to kick in. Lana was one of the gang and, if they were going to get to the bottom of this, Pete had to know the facts. Tentatively, he asked, "So, what happened up there?"

Meanwhile, Jonathan had practically lifted his son from the floor and helped him into the next room where the effects of the green rock abated. Clark's immediate reaction was concern for his friend. "Where's Lana? Is she okay?"

Jonathan nodded. "She's fine. Pete's looking after her downstairs." He watched Clark with concern. It made no difference how many times Clark was exposed to the extraterrestrial meteor rock, its extraordinary impact on the teenager always made his parents anxious. It was difficult to fully believe that the pain which had paralysed Clark only moments ago could be relieved in an instant, that no residual agony remained.

The police sirens grew louder and by the time the pair had reached the foot of the staircase two patrol cars screeched to a halt outside. They raced inside, guns cocked and ready but Jonathan waved his hand. "The assailant is upstairs. I knocked him out cold." The policemen regarded the farmer and his son suspiciously before heading up the stairs in search of the aggressor.

Clark followed his father into the kitchen where Lana and Pete were talking. A little colour was already returning to her colourless cheeks and she even managed a small smile at her two rescuers. "Thank you, Mr. Kent. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been there."

Jonathan assured her, "No thanks is necessary. I'm just glad we heard you."

Lana's gaze settled on Clark, her brow furrowing. "Clark, you were there, weren't you?" He nodded, sheepishly, disgusted at himself that he had been so useless at such a critical moment. "Everything just went by in a haze, like a dream...but you were there. Are you okay? I saw you fall."

Clark opened his mouth to stammer some kind of explanation but his father swooped in to his aid. "Clark pulled an old knee injury out of line on the farm earlier. I told him to take it easy but he's been out all night. I guess the run over here must have been the last straw."

If Lana was unconvinced, she didn't mention it. "Oh, I'm sorry, Clark. Are you okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just rest it for a couple of days." He made brief eye contact with his father, giving a silent gesture of gratitude before looking over at Pete. If anyone questioned that little account, it would be Pete, but he was already busily making teas and coffees for the policemen and the Kents.

Jonathan sighed, "Well, I guess we'd better face the music."

Two policeman manoeuvred the unconscious tramp down the stairs and into a waiting vehicle. One returned, propping up the door frame with his heavy shoulder. "Listen, folks, it's late and I'm guessing you're all pretty tired. What say we leave your statements 'til tomorrow?" The party nodded and mumbled words of approval. "Excellent. If you could all come down to the station first thing, we'll get this straightened out in no time."

The officer was quickly replaced by Martha Kent's arrival. She immediately ran to hug her son and husband, assuring herself that they were safe before turning her attention to the two young teenagers beside her. "Lana, are you all right? You must be shaken after such an ordeal." The mother hen in her quickly took charge and brushed a dark lock of hair from the girl's face. Her voice was soft and soothing. "I phoned Nell at the boutique. She's on her way back now."

Lana nodded, relieved. She couldn't bear the thought of being alone right now. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent." No sooner had the words left her lips than she felt the tears welling up again and she could no longer hold back the dam. Martha hugged her tightly and rocked her gently, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.

Clark stood by, helplessly. He didn't get a kick out of being the hero all the time, if anything it often brought more attention to him than he would like. However, where Lana was concerned, he wanted to protect her, to be her knight in shining armour. He had never really imagined that kryptonite would create such a chasm between him and the woman he loved. Shuffling out of the door, he followed his father back across the field with Pete in tow. At this rate, the Ross family would be starting to worry and even Clark was starting to feel tired after such a long day. They had achieved one goal, that of finding the strange man from the woods, but it had done nothing to help his relationship with Lana. If it were an emotion Clark had experienced more often, he might have identified it as bitterness.

Lex put down his knife and fork. He hated eating alone regardless of the number of times he had done so. It gave him too much time to think. Usually, he would invite a dinner guest, whether a business associate or not, or he would bring his work to the table. Anything was a good enough excuse to put aside the empty knowledge that it was likely no one would ever share this table with him as a family, not unless they were in it for the money.

Tonight, however, Lex didn't want to eat for another reason. He was feeling restless and had done for days. He couldn't put his finger on what the problem was but it was similar to that feeling of recuperation when one had spent too many days ailing in bed and finally wanted to stretch one's legs. Lex felt like he'd been lying down for days without any significant movement, which was not the case at all.

His fitness regime had spurted suddenly into an occupation which was taking up more and more of his valuable time. Laps round the pool, fencing, boxing, jogging, weight training - nothing seemed to be too much for the young Luthor's virile body. Tonight was no different. It was as though his body was overloaded with adrenaline. He wasn't hungry in the least and his mind kept wandering to the idea of going for a long walk in the countryside. It was an unfamiliar urge to the devout city boy and even he couldn't understand it. At least the doctor had ruled out anything noteworthy in his bi-annual check up.

Lex stood up and regarded the remains of his pasta dish somewhat disdainfully. If anything, the sight of food was starting to make him feel nauseous. He decided to get changed and go for a run. He knew his mind wouldn't rest until he'd done his body's bidding.

Fifteen minutes later, Lex was standing in the library, stocking up on good CDs to plug himself into during the circuit. He was just about to set off when the butler knocked with the message that Clark Kent was waiting to speak to him. Lex didn't like to turn his friend away even though he was starting to feel a bit desperate about getting moving. "Show him in."

"Hi, Lex!" Clark greeted him cheerfully. "You going out?"

"For a run. To what do I owe the pleasure, Clark?" He didn't want to sound like he was rushing the teenager but the sensation of all that adrenaline surging through his system was getting uncomfortable.

Clark parked himself in one of the large leather chairs at the side of the room, oblivious to his friend's apparent discomfort. "Did you hear about the incident at Nell's house last night?"

Lex dimly recalled scanning the pages of the Smallville Ledger over breakfast. "The break and entering? Sounds like Lana escaped by the skin of her teeth...no thanks to your dad." Clark gave him a lopsided smile, displaying a note of sadness. Lex picked up on it and sat down. His own needs would have to wait. He had neglected Clark lately and he didn't want to risk losing the kid's friendship completely if he kept ignoring these social calls. "What's the matter, Clark? Bummed that you're not the hero in this one?" It was meant as a joke but Clark's face showed he hadn't seen the funny side.

"I just...things have been weird between me and Lana." Clark fiddled with the braid on the edge of the chair arm and glanced up at Lex who was sitting passively opposite. He appeared twitchy to Clark, his foot tapping rapidly on the Persian rug and his fingers drumming his knee impatiently.

"Lex, are you okay? You seem kind of agitated."

Lex raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm fine, Clark." His gaze wandered longingly to the window and the gardens beyond. "I don't know what to say, Clark. You come to me with your girlfriend problems and I give you advice, but you never take it."

Clark regarded his friend with indignation. A tiny muscle flexed in Lex's tightened jaw and his irritation was almost tangible. Whatever the billionaire was worried about, it was leaking into every corner of his life. Clark inwardly reprimanded himself for being so insensitive. After all, he had a habit of showing up unannounced without a moment's thought to whether Lex might be indisposed, then he flounced in with high school problems which his friend had left behind years ago. "Lex, is this a bad time?"

"No," Lex retorted, bluntly. "I just don't really know why you come to me for help and then ignore everything I say. The routine's getting pretty tired, Clark, even for you." He knew how cutting the words must have seemed but he couldn't stop himself. The anger seemed to be coming from nowhere.

Clark stood up, unsteadily. It was rare for Lex to be so cold towards him and, even when he was rude, he usually apologised immediately for acting so irrationally. Today, there was no apology, just an incensed glare. The young man could take a hint that unsubtle. "I'm sorry, Lex. I'll get out of your way." When Lex made no response, Clark made a quick exit, shutting the front door firmly behind him. He wanted nothing more than to be off the estate was quickly as possible.

Back inside the mansion, Lex appeared unperturbed by his testiness with Clark. He didn't recognise how out of character the cutting words had been and instead donned his earphones and cranked up the volume on his Andrew WK album. Forgetting his trainer's words of wisdom about limbering up before going for a long run, he made his way out of the back door and let his body go.

END OF PART 10


	11. Questions

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE 

By Allegra

See Part One for disclaimers etc.

CHAPTER 11 : QUESTIONS

School had been out for two days now and Chloe had packed every item of smart clothing she could find buried in her wardrobe. There hadn't been many opportunities for dressing up in Smallville - jeans and cowboy boots were the order of the day most of the time. She was going to have to seriously revamp her attire once she reached the bustle of Metropolis. For tonight though, all her anxieties had to be put aside. This was her last evening before heading to the bright lights for the next few months.

She had spent the day with her father and, despite her concerns that her dad would spend the day warning her about the city dangers and possibly even cry, Chloe had actually enjoyed every minute of their quality time. As a city girl at heart, she was thrilled to be leaving Smallville for a while and she could remember how to take care of herself in a city which actually needed pedestrian crossings to establish a safe path for people through the traffic.

Tonight, however, she had reserved for dinner at Clark's farm with his parents. Strangely, Chloe was feeling more nervous about that meeting than she was about leaving town the next day. Analysing her thoughts, she was surprised to realise that this was the first time she'd been in Clark's company more or less alone in weeks, maybe even months. Her fickle, romantic ideas swung between the suave sophistication of Lex Luthor and the muscular healthy farm boy of Clark Kent. But, deep beneath it all, Chloe knew her affections would always lie firmly with the dark haired, blue-eyed teenager sitting opposite her. It was just a shame he could never see past the friendship they had welded together.

Finally, the hour had rolled around and her father dropped her off outside the Kent's front door. She had chatted happily to Clark about all the sights she was going to see in Metropolis and the kind of stories she was hoping to cover until Martha called dinner. Either Clark's interest in journalism had exceeded her expectations or he was doing an admirable job of covering his boredom. Chloe didn't think to ask; besides, it wasn't like he'd have to listen to it for long.

Seated round the large table, Chloe watched wide-eyed as Martha spread out the most perfect meal the girl could remember seeing. "This looks amazing, Mrs. Kent. Wow, if the general populace of America could taste farm-cooking on a regular basis, the food processing plants would go out of business in no time."

Martha smiled, gratefully. "Well, it was the least I could do to celebrate such an opportunity. I have to admit to being a little jealous."

Jonathan feigned offence. "Hey!"

Martha laughed and handed the potatoes round. "Oh, you're such a farmer, Jonathan! Don't forget that I'm a city girl at heart, too. There's nothing like the hubbub of a big town to make you feel truly alive. Isn't that right, Chloe?"

Chloe nodded furiously. "Oh, yeah. I just love it. I feel like the world is my oyster when I'm in the city, like I could do or be anything I want."

Clark spooned a pitiful helping of greenery onto his plate. "Don't you feel that here in Smallville?"

Chloe stared at him, confounded. "Are you kidding? This place is stifling, Clark."

Jonathan was careful not to respond to that particular comment. After all, he had chosen a life here, but then Chloe was young and tact had never been her strong suit. He shared an amused glance with Martha between passing bowls of food and reached for her hand briefly under the table. He couldn't have asked for a better life or better people to share it with. He would never regret his decision to stay in Smallville.

Although, now that he looked at his wife through Chloe's excited eyes, Jonathan wondered if she felt the same. Perhaps on a daily basis she liked her life and he knew their relationship was as solid as ever, but in the long run? Would Martha look back on her life and have regrets? It was clear from the light in her eyes and the way she revelled in talking to the young journalist about her aspirations and the secrets Metropolis held that she missed it. It was a part of her and Jonathan had pretty much blocked it from her forever. The farmstead was a two-person full time occupation and their constant financial deficit merely added to the tethers holding them here. True, she had made a decision to marry him based on the knowledge that this was the life he would lead. But things had been different then. The couple were in a honeymoon period, besotted with one another. Times had changed. Their love was strong but it was not infallible; it had shown its cracks from time to time and Jonathan had to ask himself if he had always been completely fair on Martha. There had never been a compromise concerning what would have been a lucrative law career for her.

By the time he had returned from his reverie, the topic of conversation had changed once more, back to the tramp they had brought in three nights ago. Jonathan was still a bit grumpy about the whole situation. The police had kept him away from farm business for nigh on half a day which had set his precise timetable out quite drastically. They had questioned him as if he were a common criminal who had duffed up a stranger without just cause. Clearly, they didn't perceive his attacking a teenaged girl, straddled over her, as a good enough reason. This angered Jonathan just as much as the incessant questions about the hour, minute and second at which each event took place and an apparently complete lack of comprehension as to why he and his teenaged son had chosen to go searching the woods for strange men instead of calling the police. Jonathan had to concede that they had a point there but only on the grounds that they had no knowledge of Clark Kent's hidden powers.

Chloe chattered between mouthfuls, "Anyway, you guys are now officially town heroes. I mean, Clark, you've been up on a pedestal in a lot of people's eyes for some time, but Mr. Kent, you're going to have to get used to newspaper interviews, the whole shebang."

Clark dismissed her words with a shrug, "I haven't helped that many people, Chloe."

She chided him, "Oh, come on, Clark. Lex Luthor on several occasions, Whitney, Victoria Hardwick, Earl Jenkins, Lana, Pete, not to mention yours truly! For a teenager with a curfew and chores, you sure manage to get around, Clark."

Martha rubbed her son's shoulder, "And we're very proud of him." The family shared a moment of mutual benevolence in the few moments Chloe took to eat another few mouthfuls of chicken before starting up again.

"Anyway, did you hear the verdict on your mystery man? That officer I know gave me the heads-up when the police identified this madman. It turns out he was actually a respectable citizen, not a Vietnam veteran whose life had gone down the plug hole as we imagined."

Clark leaned forward with interest. "No? Who is he then? How did he get like that?"

Chloe shrugged and swallowed some orange juice. "Apparently, his name is Frank Steadman. He worked with Bludhaven Savings and Loan. He was a punctual guy who only took about two sick days a year until he suddenly just fell off the map one day. He was a divorced man and the only people with an invested interest in his whereabouts were his colleagues and electricity board. They searched for a while, put out feelers but came up cold. Eventually, they gave up on him...until his name turned up in the paper after the incident at Nell Potter's house." Chloe chewed another mouthful, suddenly aware that she had a rapt audience.

"How strange," Martha mused.

"You're telling me," Chloe continued. "I guess he just lost it."

"But with no stimulus? I mean, one day he's fine, the next he's a crazy man roaming the countryside? It all sounds rather far-fetched to me." Jonathan wasn't exactly buying this story. Chloe was meticulous with her facts but it was possible this officer in traffic she had chosen as her source might be enjoying playing with the spirited young journalist.

"Well, that's all we've got on him right now, but I'm guessing there's more information on it's way," Chloe supplied. "Since I'm leaving tomorrow, I've left Pete to gather the remaining facts for the Torch. I'm sure he'll keep you posted or at least the Ledger will."

All in all the meal went well although Chloe was secretly wounded that Clark hadn't seemed more distraught about her departure. After all, she was going to be gone for a significant amount of time and he didn't seem the least bit perturbed. Clearly, his attention was firmly fixed with a certain raven haired beauty with the initials L.L. The pair had hugged goodbye and undergone the usual routine of promises to e-mail and phone but secretly Chloe knew it would never happen.

Martha gave her a list of excellent places to visit - both sight-seeing and notable eateries. Her mood was buoyant and the teenager almost wished she could take her on the trip. It would have been nice to share the experience with someone, even if it was Clark's mother. Wishing everyone a fond farewell, Chloe stepped into her dad's waiting car.

Lex was sitting behind his desk, laptop open and sheaves of paper in various piles around him. He had never been a particularly untidy man but today he just couldn't get himself organised. As had been the case for the past ten days, the young man was unable to focus on any task for longer than five minutes before starting to feel an urge to stop. His usually comfortable leather chair seemed hard and painful on his spine and Lex wanted nothing more than to stretch his legs or go for a run.

He drew out the map of Smallville from his central desk drawer and perused the plots of land under offer for Luthor development. The whole plan was a patchwork of different colours - some denoting parts already in LuthorCorp's grasp, others nearly in their shadow, a few with stubborn farmers who had made it their job to thwart the monstrous company at every turn. Lex's eye wandered indiscriminately over the map, tracing a path with his finger.

He had never taken the time to fully appreciate the countryside of this sleepy town, barring his unfortunate trip in the woods a few weeks back and, of course, his close encounter with the bottom of the river soon after his arrival in Smallville. Now, though, it irked him that he knew so little about his local natural environment. Bizarrely, it actually kept him awake at night - the paths he hadn't explored, the few hills Kansas possessed that he hadn't climbed. It was as if he were a puppet on a string, being tugged and drawn away from the town and into the wilderness.

Lex was just considering the idea of another jog when the doors to his study burst open with brutish vehemence and the intimidating figure of Lionel Luthor whirled into the room, long coat tails flying out behind him. The young man couldn't help the way his body jumped in surprise. His father always had to get the upper hand, no matter how melodramatic his arrival.

"Dad! I didn't know I was on your publicity tour." Lionel swept across the room, his jaw tight with obvious annoyance. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"Your apparent desire to bankrupt Luthorcorp. I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, Lex, but I can tell you now that you'll lose." He slammed a sheaf of papers down onto his son's desk, tapping it with a tense finger. "What the hell are these figures supposed to be? Your lunch receipts?"

Lex swallowed hard. Rarely had his father caught him off guard but even the young businessman had to admit that he could not recall looking over the figures this week. He had made a few changes to the budget and reallocated some money from one area of his empire to another. In the past, Lionel's shrewd financial teachings had been adopted wisely, but lately other matters had seemed more pressing. Lex tried to recover in true Luthor style, affecting cold indifference. "So I made a few changes. Can't I learn from my own mistakes?"

Lionel tore off the dark sunglasses he had been wearing and threw his son a threatening gaze. "Not when those mistakes are as expensive as this." Noting the aloof expression on his son's face, Lionel took a different tack. "What can I say, Lex? You disappoint me. I thought I was through bailing you out of trouble a long time ago. This..." he flicked at the monthly report as if it carried the plague, "...this is abhorrent. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Lex remained silent. What could he say? There was no defence beyond mismanagement. Faced with a wall of silence, Lionel ranted on. "I've looked at it from every conceivable angle, Lex, and either you're playing a game beyond even my astute skills or you have completely lost your mind. There is nothing to be gained by trying to cross me..."

"So I made a mistake! It's just a mistake. I'll make the money back, Dad. Just...give it a rest." Lex shocked himself by the sheer volume of his reaction but he couldn't take it back. All he could do was stand by it and hope his father didn't disinherit him.

Lionel seemed a little taken aback by the outburst and his mouth gaped loosely open until the power of speech returned. "A mistake like this makes we wonder if I shouldn't hand this great responsibility over to someone else...someone more capable." The words sliced through Lex but he maintained his poker face. He merely sat back, nonchalantly, in his leather chair and shrugged, "I was thinking of taking a vacation anyway."

Lionel could barely believe his ears. This was out of character for his son. Lex had never made a mistake which had not been a deliberate attempt to get his father's attention but idly squandering his inheritance with a mere shrug of the shoulders was irksome to the older man. Despite the sparring they relished, Lionel did indeed love his son and this behaviour was markedly worrying.

Moving round to crouch beside Lex, he patted the young man's knee, ignoring the way Lex flinched. "Lex, listen to me. This is your empire, too. You can't just up and leave Smallville on a whim."

Lex sighed and a soft smile curved his lips. "You must be really desperate, Dad, to play the loving paternal card so soon. I'll make your damned money back, sorry, 'our' damned money, but in the meantime, consider me unavailable."

Lionel drew himself up from his humbled position on the floor. "Unavailable?"

"Yes. You haven't given me so much as a day off from this crap factory since I got to Smallville. I've got to hand it to you, Dad, you could never be accused of preferential treatment."

Lionel fumbled for the words. He wasn't going to beg but then he had never felt the need before. Lex might have tried to defy him at every opportunity but their goals had been common - to make Luthorcorp the greatest company in the world. Now it was as if Lex didn't care about any of it. "Lex, what's going on? What's the matter with you? Have you been spending too much time with that moral young farm boy friend of yours?"

Lex chuckled, mirthlessly. "I just need a change of scenery. I wouldn't have thought the owner of a Caribbean island would find that so hard to understand."

Lionel finally admitted defeat. "Fine, Lex, fine. If that's what you want, take a vacation...but I expect these figures to be back in order with a gain by the end of next month." Without waiting for an answer, he stalked from the room. He might not have won the battle but he was damned if he'd let Lex know how much he'd ruffled his feathers.

Little did he know how far Lex's mind was from jousting with his father for supremacy. Barely had the oak doors slammed behind Lionel's retreating figure than his eyes had wandered back towards the iron gates of the mansion and the road stretching away beyond it. Barely giving the papers on his desk another thought, Lex climbed the steps to the gallery above his office and searched for the ordnance survey maps that were gathering dust. The roads and tracks around the mansion were no longer satisfying to him. His runs were growing dull and Lex wanted to inject some interest. Inexplicably, he felt the need to move further afield, see the countryside he had never explored before.

Last night in bed, his mind had wandered restlessly along the farm routes he had frequented lately. He had started from the mansion every time but had set out in different directions every time. Still, it did not seem to matter where his chosen destination was, Lex inevitably found himself diverted along paths he had never intended to use. Just then, it had occurred to him that perhaps there was some kind of pattern to his rambles. It might seem ludicrous to anyone else, but Lex was starting to realise that Smallville held more than its fair share of strange happenings. Since the meteor shower, what could only be described as paranormal activity had increased dramatically. It would not surprise the billionaire to discover that he was being affected by magnetic meteor fragments or some such anomaly.

Shifting the miscellany from his desk top, Lex laid the large map of Smallville and its outlying areas on the table. Taking a red marker, he found the mansion and began tracing his steps on each trip and circled the point at which he had stopped and retraced his path to the mansion. Soon, a pattern began to emerge with frightening clarity. No matter whether he set out from the north, south, east or west of his own estate, his run wound its way round to the north. Lex took a ruler and drew lines following the dots to a converging point in the distance. The red star's centre was in the densely wooded area of Gloaming National Park. There was a canyon a few miles further on from the spot Lex had located and Lex vaguely recalled seeing it from the Luthor helicopter once on a business trip.

The area was fairly forbidding for the inexperienced hiker. Its name was well deserved due to the eternal night which the thick foliage afforded, plunging any visitor into permanent night as soon as he or she left the security of the beaten track. For that reason alone, the deep canyon was not the tourist attraction it might otherwise have been. Lex smiled grimly. It wouldn't have been a national park for long if Lionel Luthor had seen a profit to be turned there.

This geographical revelation shocked Lex a little. He had entertained the idea of some kind of paranormal experience with a heavy spoonful of salt but the pattern which had emerged was more than a little irksome. It meant that there was something afoot, something beyond himself which was directing him. Lex gritted his teeth; he was not going to be a puppet for anything or anyone.

Storming from the room, Lex went to get changed into a tracksuit. He was going to beat this, show who was boss of him and his actions.

The sky was a bruise of colour as the sun said farewell to the day and night spread her fingers through the clouds. Clark pulled his jacket closer round him as a light breeze caught in the air. He had nearly reached Nell's house but his feet felt heavy as lead. He had been putting off visiting Lana since she was assaulted by Frank Steadman two nights ago. He still felt guilty for being so helpless in such an extreme situation. It had been hard to come to terms with the knowledge that there were some people he just couldn't help. What made it so awful was that it had to be Lana who had needed him.

She could have been killed right in front of him and Clark would have been forced to watch the girl he loved be eviscerated. The image of her lying beneath that monster's grimy body, pinned to the bed, would scar the teenager's mind forever. It was for that reason alone that Clark balked at the prospect of seeing Lana again. He was afraid of what seeing her would bring to the surface so soon after the event. Finally, his father had figured out what was stalling him and had encouraged Clark to make the visit. After all, ignoring Lana's plight would only put more distance between the pair.

Scaling the porch steps, his arms laden with a bunch of flowers, Clark tapped lightly on the door. Part of him almost hoped she wouldn't be there. A moment later, her face appeared behind the screen, anxiety quickly melting into happiness. "Clark! Are those for me?"

"Yes, I wanted to apologise for not coming sooner. I was just...scared, I guess."

Lana received the flowers gratefully and leaned down to smell the pink and white blossoms. Clark couldn't help noticing how beautifully the blooms matched her skin and dark hair. She glanced up and caught his wistful expression. "You were scared? I guess that makes two of us."

Clark returned a forced smile. "I was so worried I'd be too late. When I heard you scream..." He paused, inwardly shivering at the memory. He jumped when he felt Lana's hand brush his.

Her eyes searched his and, for a moment, that awful night was replaced with a recollection of her lips pressed to his and his arms around her. He looked deep into her hazel eyes, wondering if she was thinking the same thing. "I'm okay, Clark. You don't have to worry about me. Well, maybe not all the time. You'll always be my hero."

He smiled, suddenly uncomfortable. 'Hero' was a four letter word he liked to bat around in his own head but it troubled him when others used it. Both Lex and Lana had shown suspicion towards Clark's amazing rescues and unexplained abilities. He had seen that disbelieving look in their eyes when they asked questions and, under their scrutiny, Clark was almost made to feel guilty for saving their lives. He quickly changed the subject. "Did you talk to the police?"

Lana nodded, "Yes. They didn't seem to care what I said. I guess they reckon motive doesn't matter now they've got their man and he was pronounced insane. There's no logic to a madman's actions, after all. I'm just glad the interview didn't last long. Reliving it...it was harder than I'd imagined."

"Even though you've been in life and death situations before?" Clark queried.

Lana laughed at the idea that she had been so unlucky yet equally lucky in escaping death each time. "I guess." Her face fell once more into severe lines. "This was different though. This wasn't some shape shifting meteor mutant or a bug man. This was real life, nothing supernatural about it. When I think about what he might have done to me, I just...well, it just doesn't bear thinking about."

It was Clark's turn to reach out a reassuring hand. "It must have been awful." He knew how affected Lana had been by the whole incident but she was wrong to believe there wasn't a more sinister and extraterrestrial reason behind the attack. If he could just get some facts out of her...

Lana's hand trailed absently to her collarbone, fingers searching for the chain which usually rested on her neck. It was the most precious object Lana owned because the silver chain carried a fragment of the meteor which had killed her parents in the shower of 1989. It was just unfortunate for Clark that the rock was kryptonite, his one fatal weakness. Just being around Lana when she was wearing it was unbearable for him and, even when he had been given the chance to destroy it, Clark had returned it. He loved Lana that much, that he would trade such agony just to see her happy. "Where's your necklace?"

Lana quickly removed her hand from her neck. "Oh, the police took it, said it was evidence of assault or something."

"Evidence?" Clark frowned.

"That man tore it off me just before your father came to the rescue. I didn't want to part with it but I could hardly say no."

Clark mumbled acquiescence but his mind was already miles away. His physical symptoms were proof that kryptonite was in Frank Steadman's body but if Frank had tried to take Lana's necklace, there must be something drawing him out. Kryptonite was leading him somehow. Clark's mind raced with the possibilities. He had to get to the hospital and see Steadman.

"Clark, are you okay?"

Clark looked up to meet Lana's concerned gaze. "I'm fine. I just...I've got to go. I'm sorry. I'll catch up with you later at The Talon?"

"Sure." Lana appeared somewhat bemused but she was polite enough not to enquire further and Clark headed for the town centre.

Clark had always hated hospitals. It was strange, considering he had never been a patient in one. His reasons were twofold - he felt bad that he was pretty much invincible apart from contact with kryptonite and at the same time he feared hospitals for what they might uncover about his secret. One needle jab in the arm and he'd be a specimen for the United States government to dissect in no time. As if his feelings towards hospitals could get any worse, Clark was supposed to be sneaking in, unseen. He had to get closer to the madman, Frank Steadman and there was no way anyone was going to let him just walk into his room.

Walking down the main street had been enough to convince him that the hospital would be packed with journalists and anchormen. Every local newspaper had devoted the front cover to the latest freak in the neighbourhood. The headline blared, "Meteor Man or Monster?" Glancing at the latest piece of information, Clark was rewarded with the realisation that he was indeed right about Frank Steadman. The hospital had released information that an unidentified substance had been found in his bloodstream and is a possible instigator of the man's erratic activity. So he was right; the meteor rocks were to blame.

Peering round the corner of the ICU corridor, Clark prepared to make a dash for it. He might not have been able to save the day where Lana was concerned but he could certainly play detective and get results. As far as he could tell from newspaper reports, Steadman was being kept under lock and key and no direct contact was permitted with the patient until they were sure of his disease. Clark knew only too well that the meteor rocks were playing hockey in the guy's mind and, even though the teenager was hardly in the best position to talk to Steadman, he had to pick some clues up somewhere.

The coast was clear and Clark could see the closet where the oxygenated suits were stored. Donning one of those with a mask would not only hide his identity but hopefully defend him from some of the kryptonite effects. It might not be lead but it would have to do. Clark braced himself and then blurred across the corridor where he paused once more to check that no one had seen him. The nurses seemed oblivious to the intruder. In fact, the nurses' station looked more like the reception area of a salon. Magazines were strewn across the table in the room behind the counter and two robust nurses were chatting over cups of coffee. Clark gave a sigh of relief; it was unlikely they'd notice anything at this rate and it didn't sound like Steadman was likely to get any visitors.

Pulling the bright yellow suit on and attaching an oxygen supply, Clark moved stealthily towards Steadman's door. It wasn't difficult to find, being the only one with a clear 'no admittance' sign on the door and several notices reminding staff about the necessary precautions to be taken. Expecting the door to be locked, Clark was pleasantly surprised to find it open when he pushed.

Swallowing hard as he prepared for the onslaught of agony the meteor rock would inevitably produce. It was with mild relief that Clark barely felt anything; perhaps the man's blood had been filtered by transfusions or some such. Whatever the cause, its effects, or lack of them, were welcome.

Now that he was in the room, Clark started to lose the confidence he had set out with. It was all very well having a theory about what the kryptonite was doing to its victims but another completely to extract confirmation from a mad man.

Approaching the bed cautiously, Clark drew back the curtain and looked down at Frank Steadman. The teenager remembered him differently and, if it were not for the restraints and bramble scratches on his face, the man would have been almost unrecognisable to him. The monitors registered natural sinus rhythms which reassured Clark that the man wasn't likely to break out into a psychopathic fit any time soon. Maybe this little interview wouldn't go so badly after all.

"Mr. Steadman?"

In the silence of the room, Clark's voice sounded louder than he had imagined and the man's eyelids fluttered open instantly. Frank's brow furrowed in confusion. He clearly hadn't been expecting any visitors and the dark-haired teenager didn't exactly pass for medical staff. "Mr. Steadman, you don't know me. My name's Clark Kent...I'm the kid you attacked last week." Clark bit his lip; maybe hauling out that little chapter of the man's life wasn't the most tactful way to go. Trying to patch up the damage, he added, "I'm sorry. I know this must be a difficult time for you..."

The man's eyes wandered to the glass of water beside the bed and Clark brought it gently to his lips. Frank took a few sips and cleared his throat, uncertainly. "Clark? I'm sorry if I hurt you."

Clark put a hand on the man's shoulder. "No, you don't have to apologise. That's not why I'm here. I just...I wanted to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

Frank frowned again, clearly trying to make sense of this bizarre exchange through the drug-induced fog. "I've already spoken to the police."

"Yeah, I know, but there are some things that the police haven't figured out yet...some of the weird things that happen in this town. I think we might be able to help each other." Clark knew he was riding a fine line between getting Steadman to open up to him and revealing too much, but the circumstances called for more drastic measures. Frank did not speak so Clark began his line of questioning. "What do you remember about that night you attacked Lana Lang?"

Frank looked blank. "Lana...?"

"The girl you attacked."

"I barely remember anything..." His eyes met Clark's and the teenager caught a glimpse of fear and desperation as he tried to reach back into his mind and retrieve information he would sooner forget.

Clark pushed, "Can you at least tell me how it started? How did you end up at Nell Potter's house?"

"I can't remember. There was a smell, a smell of roast beef. Then, I just remember a green light, a glow drawing me upstairs. Then...nothing. Just green."

The man's face fell and Clark patted him lightly on the shoulder. "It's okay, sir. Thank you."

Frank smiled, sadly. "I'm sorry. Tell the girl I'm sorry."

Clark nodded and ducked out of the door, checking the coast was clear before slipping off the protective suit and sneaking out of the ICU. All his questions had been answered. The meteor rock was responsible for this whole case.

"Morning, dad!" Clark wandered into the barn where his father was cleaning the blades on the combine harvester. "You need a hand?"

"Thanks, son. I don't think speed's the key with this one. I think your mother had some grocery boxes to be delivered round town. I'm sure she'd appreciate a hand." Jonathan glanced up just in time to see Clark's crestfallen expression. "What's the matter, Clark?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"I know you too well for that, son. Who are you avoiding?"

"No one...Lex, I guess." He fiddled absently with a piece of rotting wood by the door frame, digging a nail into the soft bark.

"Really?" Jonathan could barely hide his surprise.

Clark rolled his eyes. "You don't have to say it like that. We just had a bit of an argument, that's all."

Jonathan knew his opinion in this conversation would be unwelcome at any point so he kept quiet. "You want to talk about it?"

"No," Clark said, determinedly.

"Well, you can't hide from him forever. Besides, Lex is a grown man. I'm sure he's above holding grudges for long when it comes to his friends. You might be surprised." Clark was silent at that comment and Jonathan raised his head from his work again to see that the words had taken effect.

"I guess," he responded and headed back to the house for the supplies.

After two hours of driving round town dropping off boxes and spending at least twenty minutes talking to each shop keeper like they were his best friend, Clark was starting to feel leaden footed. At first, seeing Lex had seemed too far down the list to worry about. Now, however, time had caught up with him and there was only one box left to be delivered.

The teenager had tried to rationalise every possible scenario until his chances of actually meeting the billionaire face to face were as slim as ever. After all, Lex was a busy man and if Clark slipped round the side or even left the box in the foyer, he could escape without seeing him. On the other hand, it would be worse to decide he wasn't going to see Lex only to bump into him while he was creeping round the mansion.

Clark wasn't given long to dwell on the intricacies of avoiding talking to his 'friend' as the mansion burst into view round the curve of the road. Taking a deep breath, the teenager pulled the heavy box of goods from the back of the truck and ambled towards the front door. Much to his surprise, the building was alive with bustle as staff marched in and out laden with papers and boxes.

Clark stood aside as a very flash car pulled up outside the mansion. A businesslike man emerged, tearing off a pair of sunglasses to reveal the shrewd eyes of a Metropolis lawyer. He glanced over at Clark and demanded, "Where is Lex Luthor?"

Clark shrugged, vaguely embarrassed at being caught up in the melee but curious nevertheless. "I don't know."

The man tutted in annoyance and strode towards the front door. A moment later, he emerged with Lex in tow who directed him around the back of the building with a promise of catching up with him soon. He caught sight of Clark as he did so and, for a second, the teenager thought Lex was going to ignore him, but he approached him civilly. "Clark. Are those for me?"

"Your usual delivery, yes. Are you going somewhere?"

Lex paused and looked at the boy's face, as if trying to read exactly how things stood between them since their last conversation. "Everything's been pretty rushed but I'm leaving town on business."

Clark asked, "To Metropolis?"

"No, to the country actually. Wind down and get some work done at the same time. Here, let me take those." He reached forwards to accept the goods and the second his hand touched Clark's, the teenager flinched away as fiery pain shot up and down his arms, coursing through his body with lightning speed.

Lex stopped short, "Clark, are you all right?"

Clark managed to nod as he caught his breath and steadied his frayed nerves. "Yes, I'm fine, just strained a muscle I think." He hoped his concern was hidden well enough but the questions arising in his mind were difficult to veil. It was kryptonite again...and now Lex was going to the country. It sounded a little too close to Frank Steadman's case for comfort. "So, why the country?"

Lex shrugged, "I've never really explore the region and I've been feeling the urge to do so. After all, there are opportunities to be exploited all over this fine land. I want to make sure LexCorp is there to make the best of it."

"I see. I thought you hated flying," Clark added.

Lex smiled, "I do. That's the strangest part, Clark. I haven't been in a helicopter since I was a child and yet I'm not even remotely worried about it now. It's like an unprecedented urge to be with nature, to escape my daily rituals. Extraordinary, I know, but I just can't stop myself."

Clark forced a smile to his lips. "That's great. Did you have to see your doctor before flying?"

Lex seemed a little taken aback by this sudden interest in his health. "What are you now, Clark, my mother? No, he gave me a clean bill of health not more than a week ago. I'm all set to fly. Anyway, you can thank your mother for the vegetables. I'll make sure I get a cheque to her before I leave."

"How long are you going for?"

"As long as I need, Clark." Lex smiled at the ridiculous notion that Clark, a boy five years his junior, should be checking up on him as if he were no more than a toddler.

"What about your business?" Clark tried to stall him at every opportunity but Lex seemed completely unflustered.

"Everything's been put in hand, Clark. You don't have to worry about me. Take care of yourself."

"I should be saying that to you," Clark added as Lex turned away from him. The billionaire only smiled. What more could a teenager do? He had no means of forcing Lex to a doctor or stopping him. All he could do was stand by and be prepared for the worst.


	12. Crash

A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE   
  
By Allegra  
  
(See Part One for disclaimers etc.)  
  
AUTHOR'S RAMBLE: Sorry this part has taken soooooo long to appear (if anyone is still reading this!). This is the start of the real Lex-angst/action of the story, so I apologise for all the stuff you've had to wade through so far & thank anyone who made it to this point! Also, I did actually plan this story (& started it) way back in series one so I had no idea Lex would have a plane crash in series 3, so any similarities are entirely coincidental!  
  
I'm also now naming chapters with very straightforward titles to make it easier to navigate. Right, I think I've given enough excuses, so I'd better let you make up your own mind.   
  
CHAPTER 12 : CRASH  
  
Mountains of folders, entire forests of downsized trees faced Chloe Sullivan and she had not been in Metropolis for more than a week. At first, the sheer thrill of being in the hubbub of an actual, working paper, had been the only high she had needed to be happy. However, as time drew on, she was starting to lose her zest, in fact, the whole experience was becoming somewhat wearing. Her trips to newspapers in the past, as a junior, had never been this dull. Chloe was starting to understand the editor's attitude towards her - a free general dogs body for the whole summer. If this job was sucking now, it was only going to suck worse in a few months time.  
  
Strangely, aside from feeling indignant, Chloe wasn't feeling as concerned about how bored she was going to be as she was over what on earth she'd have to write about to her father and friends. Going on past experience, the most important recipient of her letters probably hadn't given her so much as a thought since she left Smallville. Clark had made it pretty clear from day one that he didn't see her in a romantic light but it would at least be nice to think he missed her as a friend.   
  
"Hey, Cleo, you know what would be really helpful on this assignment?"  
  
"What?" Chloe's eyes brightened, the prospect of a new task outweighing her desire to correct the suited man over her name.  
  
"A coffee, real strong, from that place across the street." Without even waiting for her to accept the task, the man turned back to his desk over the flimsy partition wall. Chloe rolled her eyes. She should have expected this. Maybe she had made the wrong move going for an internship at such a large newspaper. If she had stayed local, perhaps the teenager would have stood a chance of flashing her knowledge of the job and then score a few decent jobs. Up against some of the best, not to mention most ruthless, journalists in the state, Chloe knew she didn't stand a chance of being anything more than messenger or, in this case, coffee girl.   
  
She cast a loathsome glare in the direction of the task setter. His name was George Miles, a graduate from Oklahoma State University, who was about as wet round the collar as Chloe was. That was what made him so despicable. From the moment she had stepped into the office, the blonde reporter had known they would never get along. He was about an inch higher than her in the metaphorical food chain and so he had made it his job to take out every woe on the new underling, including giving her all the skivvy jobs he had once been assigned. George had even tried out all the lame jokes like pretending to spill a hot cup of coffee on her when there was nothing inside. At least Chloe didn't wear a tie so she was saved from the 'stapling tie to the desk' routine.   
  
Still, there was one upside of this latest task. A particularly handsome guy in the graphics department had been ogling her since day one and Chloe never missed an opportunity to strut her stuff in front of him with all the grace and dignity she could muster given her situation.  
  
Marching down the corridor, she attempted casual as she passed his desk. The desire to glance over at him was overwhelming but Chloe did not want to lose her cool. Her prayers were answered when he called out, "Hey!"   
  
The teenager turned, shining her best smile, "Hey yourself."  
  
The young man stood up and Chloe was finally given the opportunity to scrutinise his appearance at close quarters. Clearly, her first impression had been pretty close to the mark. He was about six feet tall with jet black hair which had a gentle wave. His eyes were blue and piercing, full of animation and a zest Chloe always felt attracted to. He proffered a hand for her to shake. "Hi, my name's Cormac Daly. I work in graphics."  
  
Chloe took the hand and replied, "I figured that. Chloe Sullivan."  
  
"Right. You're that journalist from the paper in Smallville, aren't you?"  
  
Chloe decided to pass up the opportunity to remind him that it was only a school paper. "Yes, that's right. I didn't realise I had been anticipated. I figured I'd just blend in."  
  
Cormac laughed. "Maybe to some, but I've been trying to catch your eye for days."  
  
The teenager suppressed the ridiculously flattered smile plotting to destroy her cool demeanour and casually enquired, "Oh? Why's that?"  
  
He leaned for his jacket draped over the back of his chair and straightened up. "Aside from you being a beautiful young woman?"  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes, blushing. "Aside from that."  
  
"Why don't we talk about it over lunch? I guess that's where you're heading, right?"  
  
Chloe's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Um, well, I'm actually getting coffee for..." She jerked a thumb in the direction of her new boss, his name escaping her.  
  
Cormac shook a hand flippantly in the general direction of George Miles and said, "Oh, forget about him. He should be getting his own coffee and he knows it. I'm sure you could be put to much better use. What say I buy you one of the best pastrami bagels in the city?"  
  
"That would be great," Chloe grinned as she followed him to the elevator.  
  
**********  
  
"Are you sure he said he'd drop a cheque off, dear? A cheque?"   
  
Martha's gaze was querying and Clark nodded for the tenth time in as many minutes. "Yes, mom. That's what he said."  
  
His mother frowned and chewed the end of her pencil for a moment. "Well, Lex never pays me a cheque until the end of the month but it's only the tenth today. Do you think that means he plans on being away for the next three weeks? I wonder if I should stop making up the vegetable boxes for a while. Still, I suppose his live-in staff have to eat, too."  
  
Clark tuned out her vocal ruminations, his mind still pondering how to stop Lex from leaving at all. He had been vague about the details of his departure but, given the hubbub of activity at the mansion, it would be fairly soon. The teenager had stuck his oar into his friend's affairs in the past and their relationship had remained more or less intact but Clark couldn't think of an appropriate solution to this particular dilemma. Short of sabotaging the aircraft, he was stumped.  
  
"Clark, are you listening to me?" Martha enquired sharply.  
  
"Mom, I need to go out for a while," Clark mumbled in return, unwittingly answering her question.  
  
"But what about dinner?!" Martha sighed wearily as her son disappeared out of the back door without so much as a backward glance.  
  
**********  
  
The Luthor mansion was floodlit with imposing white lights which threw an unearthly glow over the ancient stone walls. Clark drew his jacket tighter around his chest against the chill tinge in the air. The teenager was relieved to see that there were few signs of habitation, a sure bet that the team of lackeys swarming over the estate earlier in the day were gone. Hopefully that would leave Clark with Lex's undivided attention for a short while at least. No matter which way he had turned the information in his mind, the same conclusion formed - he had to tell Lex what he knew. To hell with the consequences.  
  
"Lex?" Clark called from the front door which stood unusually ajar. "Lex? Are you here?"   
  
A moment later, Lex appeared at the top of the first flight of stairs. "Clark! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon."  
  
"The door was open..." Clark started in defence of his bold entrance.  
  
Lex flapped a hand in dismissal as he descended the final stair. "Oh, I must have forgotten to close it after my jog. So what can I do for you, Clark?"   
  
The young man's eyes pierced Clark to the core and, in their depths, the teenager could see a dangerous animation, an almost manic gleam which was both unbecoming and unsettling. "Lex, I need to talk to you."  
  
"And it couldn't wait until after my trip?"  
  
"You said you didn't know how long you'd be away for and it's important."   
  
Lex nodded in curt acknowledgement and led the familiar procession through the corridors to his study where he plunged into a seat near the empty fireplace. With only the dim light from the desk lamp to illuminate the cold grate, Clark couldn't help an involuntary shiver. He had rarely seen the mansion by night and, stripped of the bright sunlight, the whole building took on a more sinister edge. Sometimes Clark couldn't help but wonder how Lex managed to live here without feeling the constant chill of a ghost at his back.   
  
"Clark, are you all right?" Lex's anxious voice drew him back to reality.  
  
The teenager nodded, suddenly feeling foolish about his overactive imagination. "Yeah. I thought you were leaving town today."  
  
Lex smiled. Clark would need a few more lessons in discrete questioning before he got one over on a Luthor. "Forecast said the weather wouldn't hold. My pilot refused to fly, but I think my father had a big hand in that little decision. I've never met a man who won't do my bidding if the price is high enough." Catching the momentary shock on Clark's face, Lex added, "Except perhaps a member of the Kent family. I'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning." There was a moment of silence until the billionaire prompted his young friend. "What did you want to talk to me about, Clark?"  
  
Clark licked his dry lips, building up to the inevitable reaction his little explanation would elicit. "You remember the man who attacked me and Lana? Well, he was exposed to something."  
  
Lex nodded, "So the papers said, but they haven't identified the substance yet."  
  
Clark continued, "I think it has something to do with the meteor rocks. I think he was exposed to that substance through the rock and it caused his bizarre behaviour."  
  
"That's quite a theory, Clark. You got any proof to back up your claim?" Lex's lips curled into a small smile, both indulgent and inquisitive.  
  
"Not exactly. It's just a hunch." Clark floundered as he felt Lex's interest in the conversation dwindle. "It's more than a hunch, Lex, I just can't tell you."  
  
There was nothing better than a secret for piquing Lex's interest. "Ah, yet another facet to the unfathomable Clark Kent! If you have proof but you don't want to tell me, why are you here? What does all this have to do with me?"  
  
Clark prepared himself for the worst. "Because I think you might have been exposed to the same substance."  
  
Lex's expression melted from generous to distaste, passing through various degrees of emotion in between. "And what gives you that idea?"  
  
This was where the situation was going to get prickly. Clark knew it would be the death of him to tell Lex about his own reaction's around kryptonite. He licked his lips, nervously anticipating the response. "I can't tell you."  
  
Lex's chest heaved with exasperation. "Then I can't stay." His gaze locked with Clark's in a moment of defiance as if willing the truth out of his friend. Clark's gaze remained steady despite the pain it caused him. There were moments when he wanted nothing more than to confide completely in Lex but those moments were quickly forced into submission by the gleam in the man's eyes. It was a thirst for knowledge, no, more than that, a thirst for secrets. Lex was not content with the honest information men could proffer but the dark conspiracies lurking beneath the surface, ever moving in the murky depths of deception like some great sea monster constantly ahead of its predators.   
  
Lex tore his eyes away from Clark and turned his back, making for the study door. The challenge was met. "Lex, wait! Please, can't you just trust me on this?"  
  
Lex's shoulders sagged with unmistakable annoyance and he slowly turned to face the desperate teenager. "Give me one good reason, Clark. Do you really think I'm going to stay at home just because you tell me to?" Hearing the harshness in his own voice, Lex moved closer to Clark and his face softened a little, although the dangerous light still shone behind those blue eyes. "Give me one good reason to stay and I'd be happy to." The sincerity was almost believable but Clark was already starting to feel nauseous from the mere proximity of the billionaire and he backed away a step, trying to reorient himself.  
  
He blinked hard, attempting to shake off the unbalancing feeling he was experiencing. "Lex, I know it's hard to accept but trust me, you don't want to get up in that plane! Please, just make an appointment with your doctor! Get a blood test!"  
  
Clark knew only too quickly that he had pushed too far. Nobody could tell a Luthor what to do and expect him to roll over. If anything it was likely to push him over the edge. Lex's mouth curled into a half smile at the absurdity of the situation. "I'll see you when I get back, Clark." Without another word, he stalked from the room.  
  
**********  
  
The small bi-plane sailed through the light fluffy clouds and Lex watched the patchy ground below them spreading out like an old quilt beneath him. He felt much better now that he was on the move. The strange, uncontrollable energy bursts he had been experiencing for the past days seemed to have subsided. Lex wondered if the altitude had anything to do with it. Still, he wasn't about to knock a good thing.  
  
Settling his head back against the comfortable rest, Lex closed his eyes and allowed his brain to let go of work and Smallville. For a moment his mind dwelt on what Clark had said. He had appeared truly concerned for Lex's safety. Was there anything in it? The young Luthor had always harboured suspicions about the farm boy's sources. He was unerringly present whenever something strange or mysterious happened in Smallville, even Metropolis. The teenager played his hand close to his chest, ever wary of being discovered somehow, that his secret would be revealed. Yes, Clark Kent certainly had a secret. Of that, Lex was certain. It was only a matter of time before he found out what it was. In the meantime, the billionaire couldn't help wondering if he had made a mistake by choosing to ignore his hero friend.  
  
He slept for a short time; it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes given the landscape change. Lex awoke with a start, his body jittery. He looked out of the small window to see the curly tops of trees below him, various shades of green densely packed together. Then it came to him like something surging out of his subconscious. Lex needed to be down there, in that exact expanse of forest. Irrational as it would have seemed a few moments before, nothing could deter him now from doing what he wanted. It was as if every ounce of sense had been pushed into a recess of the billionaire's brain and he could no longer control himself.  
  
Pushing the small intercom button on his arm rest, Lex commanded the pilot to set down in the woods. "I'm afraid that's impossible, Mr. Luthor. There's no landing plain large enough and we're in the middle of nowhere."  
  
"I don't care where we are. Just find a clearing that'll fit the plane and head for it," Lex demanded, unreasonably.  
  
Unsurprisingly, the pilot still refused his order. "Mr. Luthor, even if we found a clearing large enough, the chances of being able to navigate the plane safely into such a small space would practically be suicide."  
  
Lex gritted his teeth, feeling the anger rising. He was not going to be thwarted by someone whom he paid triple standard pilot salary just to keep on staff. For that price, he should get what he wanted, even if it was suicide. Storming into the small cockpit, Lex lifted the crystal cut whiskey decanter in one hand and smashed it deftly over the pilot's head.  
  
The man's head lolled lifelessly and his hands slid from the steering column. With the plane already tilting wildly, Lex managed to manoeuvre the pilot onto the floor and took his place in the pilot seat. He had been given a few rudimentary flying lessons on the ground as a child. While Lionel spent his time pulling his business into shape, Lex spent a considerable amount of his childhood being humoured by LuthorCorp employees. The airfield had been no different. All the ground crew used to look out for the red-haired boy and Lex had spent a few short hours in the simulation machine. He could barely remember a thing he had learned but the basics came back to him as the plane plunged nose first towards the nearing ground.  
  
Lex's hands were shaking but he couldn't be sure whether it was the weird adrenaline surge he had been experiencing or the fear that he truly was pitching down to his death. There was little time to think about it. The nose of the plane brushed the tree line and the billionaire managed to pull up until the belly caught the tree tops. Then, Lex was almost flung from the seat as the plane descended into the trees, knocking into some and knocking some down. A stray branch thumped hard against the window, cracking it and obscuring Lex's view ahead. Another branch swiftly followed, smashing the glass inward and showering his face with painful shards.  
  
A sharp hit from the side knocked him violently from the cockpit seat and Lex raised his hands to shield his head from impact. A pair of arms was little protection against an entire forest and all he could do was pray as the plane prepared for a riotous touch down. One harsh knock to the head and everything went black.  
  
**********  
  
END OF PART 12 


End file.
